Nothing about Kim Staley was average. She entered a room and you could feel a subtle shift in the climate. The energy was suddenly charged. She didn’t even grow up like the rest of us. Her mom looked like a movie star and her dad was one of the most celebrated heroes in World War 2. Despite their glamour, they managed to raise their daughter with the old-fashioned values with which they were raised – humility, hard work, deep faith, compassion for others and above all, the sanctity of family. Family meant everything to Kim; her children Quincy and Kal were her world.
Kim had this innate ability to connect with people. She never lost eye contact, she actively listened and when she laughed, her eyes actually twinkled. She remembered names - not just yours but your kids' names and your dad’s. Kim offered warmth that was authentic, and had a gravitational pull that drew men and women to her side.
A lot of people would have been satisfied with that. She was well loved, popular and her friends and children adored her. But Kim had an inner fire, having ambitious goals to grow Ladies Leadership into a broader regional force, empowering women in all of Florida.
At a time in my life when my thoughts trend towards watching sports on TV and napping, Kim was hiring a life coach, manifesting her future and embarking on a new journey with her loving partner Tom. All about her was this palpable sense of hope and renewal.
Kim never offered medium effort to anything – the way she lived, the way she loved, her friendships, her family, this community. She was all in.
I know that in the height of the season here in Naples, people will be 3 deep at the bar at Del Mar and, despite the deafening crowd, there will also be a silence – a muted laugh and a tequila, soda orange that won’t be ordered and a dazzling brilliance that is lost.
Kal, Quincy and Tom are in our hearts and our hugs. We've got them.
We will all miss you, Kim.