Beneath the soaring stone arches of the Cadet Chapel this week, on the West Point campus she called home, Lauren Loose brought everyone together again, one last time. She’d been doing it for most of her 29 years on earth, and it would be no different now that her time was done. Her parents, John and Marianne Loose, and her sister Grace were in the front pew, surrounded by enough family members to fill a barracks. The whole Army football team was there in dress grays – John Loose is an assistant coach on Jeff Monken’s staff – and so were the other assistants and program staff members.
Fifty or so employees from Lauren’s beloved workplace, Compassion Café on Long Beach Island on the Jersey Shore, were there, and so were hundreds of others, friends and teachers and people who were touched by how she lived her life, a powerhouse of positivity in a body that wasn’t even 3 ½ feet tall.
“Lauren was such a special young lady and meant so much to everybody she encountered,” Monken said. “She just had this spirit about her. It’s almost indescribable. Everybody who met her was taken by her – her attitude, her toughness. She’s been through it, and always just (had) a smile and wonderful attitude.”
Lauren was born with a condition called Neurofibromatosis Type I, a genetic disorder that causes tumors to form in the brain and spine and can lead to a wide array of developmental abnormalities. Her lifelong battle included too many tumors and surgeries to count, blindness in one eye and impaired vision in the other, unending cycles of chemo and radiation and all the attendant side effects. Her body finally gave out on August 12.
Through it all, she never stopped being a dreamer, a doer, a planner and a talker, especially at Compassion Café, where she has worked, mostly at the register, from the day it opened six years ago.
Sue Sharkey is the co-founder of the café, which has grown to 90 employees, all of whom have an intellectual or developmental disability.
“She was funny and happy and a friend to all,” Sharkey said. “She was a great conversationalist. The whole time I’ve known her, she never once let her diagnosis define her.” Earlier this summer, when Lauren was under palliative care and dealing with extreme pain, Sharkey tried to convince her to take the rest of the day off. She never would.
“Pain doesn’t change the time I’m supposed to go home. I want to be here – in my happy place,” Lauren said.
“She’s the toughest person I’ve ever met in my life,” Sharkey said.
That toughness has been duly noted by her father, Monken and all the other football coaches Lauren has been around over the years. The Looses started a foundation, Lauren’s First and Goal (www.laurensfirstandgoal.org) to honor their daughter 22 years ago, its mission to raise funds for research and to provide services to families dealing with pediatric cancer. The principal revenue source comes from the LFG Coaching Camp, in which high school and college coaches from all over the country pay to hear what top coaches have to say. Over the years, John and Jim Harbaugh, James Franklin, Bill O’Brien, Luke Fickell, among many others, have conducted clinics, whether in person or on line. Lauren spoke at every camp. The foundation has raised over $3 million to date.
After Father Matthew Pawlikowski finished presiding over the funeral Mass in the Cadet Chapel, lunch was served in Ike’s Café in Eisenhower Hall, accompanied by a special beverage - Lauren’s Blueberry Hibiscus iced tea. For several years, Lauren had been proposing to Sharkey that they carry iced tea in the Café. Sharkey liked the idea, but was concerned about the logistics of adding a new product. Lauren went ahead and found the tea she wanted, figured out brewing options and how they could make it work. After lunch, a Celebration of Lauren Loose’s Life began in earnest, and speakers shared about of her unflagging spirit and complete sense of comfort and belonging. In her eulogy, Sharkey told the story about how Lauren wore her down.
“The coaches in the room understand long-game strategy. Lauren’s an expert long- game strategist,” Sharkey said. The tea was a big hit. “To date, over 900 cups sold – and conversations had.”
People spoke about some of Lauren’s proudest achievements, among them graduating high school in 2015 and leading her class out in the procession, and going on to earn a certification as a Medical Administrative Assistant. She was a foodie who loved to cook and plan elaborate birthday parties and try new things. Her parents didn’t just love and support her; they empowered her to go after whatever brought her joy. Earlier this summer, Lauren fulfilled a bucket-list item when she took a mixology lesson with a local bartender and concocted three mocktails.
“John and Marianne, they’re saints,” Monken said. “Marianne cared for Lauren for 29 years – just an incredible gift and commitment she gave that young lady.”
On display at the celebration was Lauren’s String of Strength, which started as a necklace-sized chronicle of her health journey and has since become so big it could encircle a small room. On the LFG website, Marianne explains how the String of Strength came to symbolize the challenges Lauren faced.
“Each bead . . . represents an experience during the journey through a child’s life with cancer,” she writes. “Some beads symbolize the most unpleasant of experiences such as pokes, surgery, hair loss, chemo and hospital stays. Some beads signify the most beautiful moments, friendships and memories made during the journey. Every bead added to the strand is a tangible and growing testament of the strength, courage and perseverance of the child who earns it.”
Starting the String of Strength about 5 years into her diagnosis, Lauren wanted to make sure she got “credit” for ordeals she’d already been through. “’Hair loss, oh yeah, I need that one. Transfusion, yes!! Gimme those!’”
Lauren treasured the String of Strength, even as Marianne felt immense sadness over its size, and everything her daughter had gone through. Gradually, Marianne came to treasure it, too. “I started to see it for what it is - the truth and reality of Lauren’s and our family’s life with cancer and all the good and bad that goes along with it.”
Lauren would proudly wear the String of Strength on special occasions. Marianne describes it as “an exquisite and priceless piece of jewelry. . . her badge of courage, a symbol of her resilience, optimism and her never-quit attitude.”
It was the overarching theme of the whole celebration, the short life of Lauren Evelyn Loose saluted not for what she couldn’t do, but what she did do. Sue Sharkey closed her remarks by reading a note Lauren had written her:
----------
Donations in Lauren’s memory can be made to www.compassioncafelbi.org. In addition, the Loose family welcomes spiritual palancas—offers of prayer, small sacrifices, or random acts of kindness performed to honor Lauren’s life.
She was such a special person and will be deeply missed. Keeping her family and everyone who loved her in my thoughts and prayers.
❤️🙏🏻