Karen Shiver:
CLASS OF 1978
North Ft. Myers High SchoolClass of 1978
North ft. myers, FL
Nazarene Bible CollegeClass of 2014
Colorado springs, CO
University of South FloridaClass of 1982
Tampa, FL
Karen's Story
I am currently attending the Nazarene Bible College in Colorado Springs... I am studying to become a minister.
You can find me on Facebook under the name Karen Cacciolfi Shiver.
I am a creative and wildly romantic girly girl who loves poetry, writing, theater, ballet, antiquities, Shabby Chic, pink crayons, Lord of the Rings, the St. Louis Rams, Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, running, renaissance festivals (and jousting). I enjoy science fiction, probing into the deep, dark mysteries of black holes, building sandcastles on the beach while watching an octopus escape from a sealed jar...my favorite pet..., observing a ladybug explore the complexities of a rose, and picnics on Morrow Mountain.
I attended the University of South Florida... English and Theology degree. I am a freelance magazine and newspaper writer whose numerous publications have appeared in Country Almanac, The Forum, and the Fayetteville Observer. I have received several awards for my essays and educational exhibitions in Marine Biology, and for a French children's book... was also the Senior Writer/Consultant for a children's television workshop series and was Senior Writer/Editor for a small publishing company. I was an At-Large Executive Committee Member for a worldwide organization for three years and wrote/edited recovery books, pamphlets, and magazine articles. I am currently attending the Nazarene Bible College and studying to become a Pentecostal minister.
Vintage toys are my passion. And Shabby Chic. Where shall we rendezvous, my sweetest love? Paris, of course! And, Italy. Or aboard Captain Nemo's Nautilus! Perhaps a magic carpet ride to the moon, and a stolen kiss? Or, in your beloved arms in the midst of a warm summer night's bliss? A voyage to Oz? Never land? Ah! Peter Pan awaits!
I still believe fairies dance delightfully on my lawn and Never Land is the first star to the right of a crescent moon. I believe in magic, and still hope the tooth fairy will leave a silver coin upon my pillow while I am dreaming. I believe in a world where people are decent, and kind, moral and ethical, and respectful. I believe in love and fairy tales and frogs turning into princes with a single kiss. I believe in honor, and knights on white horses rescuing damsels in distress and chivalry. I believe dreams really do come true and in fairy godmothers who rescue princesses from evil stepmothers and ugly stepsisters, and Disneyland, and Tweety, and Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster. I believe if Terry makes a lasso and aims high, and is precise, he will capture the moon and draw it closer to us, and I believe, if a fairy sprinkles dust over my head, I can fly home! So, with a silver lasso, will you capture the moon for me?
A gentleman who is witty, charming, clever, bright, courteous, brave, courageous...a princely knight who battles piranha-infested moats and monstrous spiders to climb a fair maiden's balcony, dynamic, career-minded (and one he enjoys...would like someone who has followed his dreams), wildly romantic... prefers a sojourn in England amidst century-old castles, and a rendezvous with Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster over a weekend adventure in Las Vegas (even though my daddy resides there), high personal and professional standards, artistic (or possesses an appreciation for the arts), chivalrous, marvelously kind...a true knight with a heart of pure gold! Essentially, I desire a hero.
My son is 25 and married; my daughter is 27 and is attending medical school in Parma, Ohio
Following is an excerpt from my book, The Rose Princess:
The little thorn bush, who had overheard Brian's mournful soliloquy, begin to weep. He, too, often wondered if fairy tales and happy endings truly existed. But, unlike Brian, whom he loved dearly, the little thorn bush wholeheartedly embraced life and believed in the restorative powers of love... the most precious gem in a hearts quarry. Miracles were not generated by external stimuli; they were conceived within the veins and arteries of ones heart. By loving one's self, the heart became nourished, thereby enabling its expansion to love others. At long last, the little thorn bush finally accepted himself, thorns and all,and love began to bloom.
Within the deepest recesses of his soul, he felt a powerful, almost overwhelming physical sensation. His tiny thorns quivered and several leaves sprouted forth. Soon, an enormous bud appeared, and through a long and painstaking process which lasted nearly until sunrise, the little thorn bush, ineluctably, created a flower!
My husband, Terry Preston Shiver, died on June 1, 2009. I wrote the following eulogy:
A Wife's Eulogy to her Husband
"Upon aromatic winds his sweet essence flowed
Breathing purpose into her senses
As she slowly inhaled his sweetest fragrance."
The days and nights blur and crickets, alike fiddlers with their bows, play...Expand for more
their sweet night music. And, I am alone in the dark, in the cold, when all the world is asleep. Are you sleeping, my dear love? Or, does the battle cry of war keep you awake as the battle cry of my heart keeps me awake? Tick, tock... time passes slowly..., and our love lies dormant, tucked neatly within the secret chambers of yesteryear.
Silhouetted in God's radiant light, and with the quintessential element of love as a guiding voice, I stand before all of you... my beloved family and dear friends... and, so very humbly, recount the chivalric life of Terry Preston Shiver.
And, how do I comfort a knight so brave and true, his armor gleans white and silver from whence his golden heart lies beating? For war conjures up images of a wingless songbird on a snow-covered mountainside or a hummingbird weaving a thread of gold through the moon's silvery light.
Vaughn Monroe's lyrics, "Old soldiers never die, they just fade away" resound eloquently in this room today. And, so it is true with Terry, a venerable princely knight, who would battle piranha-infested moats and monstrous spiders to climb a fair maiden's balcony, and rescue her. With saber in hand, and layers of guilt wrapped around his heart, he would plunge courageously toward the battlefield... for, no soul was considered unworthy of his aid... he valued all of God's children, believed whole heartedly in the goodness of mankind, and heard everyone's battle cry. Terry, whose motto was, "Play Pretty," was a healer, a diplomat, a negotiator, a peacemaker, a songbird's euphonious ballad amid life's chattering dissonance... unequivocally, he wanted the world to love one another.
Alike a flickering candle in a darkened room of falsehood and confusion, Terry would elucidate us with his adroit repartee, ingenious banter, and scintillating conversations. He sparkled! He gave our lives flavor (pun intended)!
His warm and generous nature and unique perspective on life's ever-changing kaleidoscope echoed brilliantly throughout his relationships and community affairs. Even more amazing, he possessed an uncanny ability to transcend earthly limitations, tapping into an infinite, ethereal beauty beyond. Terry, through the restorative powers of love, the most precious gem in a heart's quarry, healed the world... one soul at a time. And, I truly believe, within the deepest reaches of my heart, Terry, in Heaven's vast quarry, is its finest gem.
Although Terry and I have reached a denouement, alike a silk curtain drawn closed after a favorite, familiar scene in a dramalogue, we will, in our hearts, remain inseparable, for, our time together has indubitably left an unforgettable imprint upon my heart and my soul.
Within the shadowy, convoluted recesses of her consciousness, Karen felt a penetrating epiphany. His delicate, tender countenance had incited a curious, resolute passion. As if interwoven in an elaborate tapestry from a past incarnation, their hearts had transcended earthly perimeters of breadth and time, and, as though awakening from an ephemeral dream, had whispered to each other as they had once whispered eons ago. She loved him deeply, immeasurably, enmeshed eternally within the billowy creases of his elysian essences.
An Unraveled Life
I wish I could have held you in my arms during your final hour on Earth and I wish I could serenade you, one last time, to Our House or dance again to our favorite song, Into the Mystic. You gave my life flavor... you made it sparkle... you kept me safe from harm, and you sealed a place in your heart for me... forever. I will miss our life together... sitting on the rooftop before the dawn broke, long country drives, plucking pumpkins from the pumpkin patch, watching Marie eat an ear of corn before it was husked, espying the Queen in Kathy's hand, playing practical jokes on my brother (haha), nibbling on pepperoni and cheeses while watching Mystery Science Theater 2000 (the puppets were so hilarious), playing Terrible Swift Sword (even after I had let the cat walk across the board), watching you make balloon animals, baking a meatloaf, with mushrooms, catfish suppers in southern Alabama, visiting the sheep on Sunday afternoons, gazing at the puke lights on Christmas Eve, rescuing Tim from his car, your hair coiling during a summer rain, hearing you say, "Are you accepting visitors tonight?" and the first time you ever said, "I love you, Kid!"
Thank you for your kindliness and for being someone I was always proud to be with. Thank you for your amorousness, your tenderness, your uncanny ability to always enchant and delectate me. Thank you for our lovely, lovely children. Thank you for all of the meatball subs you ever bought me, for driving 200 miles just to satisfy a pregnancy craving, for the endless back rubs, and for giving me the moon and the stars. And, most of all, thank you for loving me.
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