December 30, 2021

On Wednesday, our family lost my sister-in-law, Carol Welsh, after her 21-year ordeal with adult ependymoma — a rare, but relentless brain tumor. The fact that we knew the end was coming didn’t lessen the grief. A world without Carol is still almost unthinkable.

The youngest of the four sisters, Carol was smart, funny, curious, and great company — whether at a Birchmere show, a West Point football game, hanging out at holiday get-togethers, or driving to one of her medical appointments. She and I shared a penchant for goofy humor. When she wanted to wind me up, she’d refer to me emphatically as “Stephen J. Lasko!” or “Stephen J!” (my middle name is Anthony). Once during a drive, she was telling me about a movie she really liked, when her muddled speech and my lousy hearing collided — I finally had to ask, “Carol, what the hell is all this ‘Box One’ stuff?” Turns out she’d been telling me about the movie Black Swan. When we figured that out, we both howled. “Box One” then became our shorthand for “Never mind.”

Maybe you had to be there. I’ll spare you the story of how I tweaked her epic narrative poems at family gatherings.

A high academic achiever (Princeton undergrad; MBA at William & Mary), Carol seemed all but destined for professional greatness when her tumor was discovered in 2000. From that point, she endured one slow, agonizing setback after another.

But she handled her condition — with its attendant pain, unpredictability, and anxiety — with incredible courage; her rallying cry was “Onward!” The comprehensive website she created was a source of information, insight, hard truth, and encouragement for others who were similarly afflicted. She and her team of sisters and friends raised considerable money for cancer treatment and awareness at the annual Race for Hope in DC.

In the end, Carol did not get the life she planned, wanted or deserved. But she made a life of incredible value and significance out of the awful hand she was dealt. That’s how we’ll all — everyone whose life she touched — fondly and lovingly remember her. I just can’t believe she’s gone.

RIP, Carol.