Stephanie Clark

Stephanie Delight Clark was an artist, mother, daughter, aunt, sister, and friend to many. Her legacy extends beyond the physical world, and she now rests on a universal plane.

Born on October 24, 1976, in Muscatine, Iowa, she was the daughter of Maggie and Bruce Clark, and bonus child to Teri Clark. She was the beloved sister of Matt Clark, Karen Bankowitz, and Val Hodorowski. She cherished her grandparents, especially her grandmother Thauren, and her grandfather Buster, a WWII veteran.

Though Muscatine was her home, Stephanie's adventurous spirit took her far.

She spent years in Davidson, NC, took countless ski trips to Colorado, embraced the mountains of Roanoke, VA, and lived and studied in Florida, where she spent most of her life. She graduated from Lake Mary High School and later attended Rollins College.

In Indialantic, FL, she welcomed her greatest joys: her son, Graham, in 2003, and her daughter, Reagan, in 2005. She spent many years in the Orlando area, where in 1996, while working for Orlando Magazine, she met her lifelong friend Billy Manes. They were inseparable, and she considered him a brother.

Stephanie was a force-funny, vibrant, and full of belief in the good in the world. Her laugh was infectious, impossible to hear without joining in.

She was a talented painter whose work was displayed in local galleries and lovingly gifted to family and friends. She also dedicated herself to helping others, volunteering at domestic violence shelters and organizations serving the homeless.

She worked tirelessly in her 43 years, touching countless lives along the way. Stephanie passed on May 16, 2020, leaving behind a legacy of love, art, and kindness. She is profoundly missed by those who knew her, and her spirit lives on in the hearts of her family and friends, who carry pieces of her wherever they go.

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Note:

December 2019-New Years of 2020 was the last time I saw my mom;

Mom wanted to make everything perfect for the holidays, and two nights before Christmas, we stormed Lowe's and bought the baddest tree we could fit in the back of the car. We decorated a rosemary tree we bought from a farmer's market with handmade paper ornaments and fairy lights.

We listened to Counting Crows and David Gray late into the evenings into early mornings, and painted while talking about our pasts and hopeful futures.

She showed me all around Richmond, making sure to stop at every little store we would pass "just to see".

She always amazed me with her knowledge and her ability to pick up on the little nuisances, and always seemed to know what I was thinking before I did.

We watched crappy Christmas movies and laughed, and cried, and reminisced...

I miss her. I miss her so terribly.

I want so desperately to text her and see her icon pop up, active at last!

...But I know this can not be, and it's nearly a hurdle that is impossible to comprehend or to conquer.

I miss you mom.