Debbie was born February 16, 1950 in Hudson, NY to Vonda Juan* (Sherman) Kardos and Stephen Kardos. Debbie followed brother David Stephen into the world and enjoyed being the baby of the family until replaced by her sister, Betsy Irene, a decade later. Her sudden demotion to middle child at the advanced age of ten caused a lifelong rift between the Kardos girls. * As an aside, "Juan" is a family name and is pronounced Joo-AHN. It's a long story. Debbie’s earliest years were spent in the village of Philmont, NY until the family uprooted itself and drove across the country to southern California, accompanied by a continuous soundtrack of David asking, “What’s that?” and “Are we there yet?,” and two year-old Debbie alternately crying and being carsick. Once there, however, Deb quickly became a regular California girl with a deep love of everything related to the ocean. Debbie was a born performer. Although her audition for the original Mickey Mouse Club didn’t go anywhere, she enjoyed dancing, singing, and acting throughout her school years. She sang soprano in her high school choir and enjoyed participating in school plays. Debbie performed in the chorus of her high school production of Gilbert & Sullivan’s “The Mikado,” and eight years later her sister did exactly the same, with exactly the same director, though the girls went to rival high schools in their hometown of Simi Valley, CA. Her love of the silver screen encompassed everything from ‘50s and ‘60s sitcoms like “The Andy Griffith Show” and “Bewitched” to classic movies like “Psycho,” “To Kill a Mockingbird,” “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World,” and “Gandhi.” When it came to “I Love Lucy,” Debbie could pretty much recite all the dialogue of every episode; she adored that show! As a teenager in the 1960s, Debbie was an enthusiastic conquest of the British Invasion. The Beatles had no more faithful fan anywhere in the world than Debbie Kardos; her love of them extended even to Linda Eastman when she married Paul McCartney, though not so far for Deb to become a vegetarian. Debbie was even supportive of Yoko Ono… just so far, though! Unfortunately, Debbie’s otherwise idyllic childhood was marred by two unique medical conditions: a cavernous hemangioma on her lower intestine that periodically ruptured, causing slow hemorrhaging and severe anemia, and a chromosomal abnormality called Turner Syndrome, which affected her growth and development. Children with Turner’s can have a pre-disposition to learning disabilities which were unknown in the 1950s and 60s; sadly, kids like Debbie were often mischaracterized as “slow” instead of “different” learners. Debbie struggled to some extent at school, but overcame the challenges to not only graduate from high school but continue her education at the community college level and, eventually, earn certificates in Early Childhood Education and Therapeutic Massage. When it came to “little people”—which is what she called children—Deb was always focused and involved. She loved the 2 year-olds she taught at preschool, and wherever she went – stores, restaurants, gas stations – she’d sniff out toddlers like a beagle hunting foxes. She had no boundaries where toddlers were concerned, and would engage them and their parents in conversation, no matter where or what the circumstances. Debbie exercised her creative talents in her preschool classroom by playing guitar, singing songs, and writing stories to keep the children entertained. “The People Who Turned into Pigs” was one such moralistic tale, that cautioned youngsters to clean up after themselves in order to avoid a dismal fate as a pink porcine. She also enjoyed entertaining at birthday parties for kids, as Bubbles the Clown. Given her delicate health, Deb’s immunity eventually became depleted by working in the germ factory called preschool, and she moved to Phoenix, AZ where her parents had retired. Her work life eventually resumed when she became a receptionist for a local funeral home. Sometime in the 1980s, Deb learned the art of Swedish massage and had a side gig as a licensed massage therapist. She was great at it, and when a client’s Cavalier King Charles Spaniel paid intense attention to his owner’s regular massages, Debbie took it on herself to expand her practice to include Rocky, and he enjoyed a massage every time his human did. Debbie was a spiritual person with varied interests and an inquisitive nature. She was fascinated by the possible existence of alien life forms and cryptids like Bigfoot, was a firm believer in the paranormal and metaphysics, and always hoped for amendments to history that would lend credence to legends of lost worlds and artifacts. It is tragically unfair that she went to her last reward without knowing whether Templar treasure is ever found on Oak Island. Following a stroke in her early ‘50s and another a few years later, Debbie’s life and health changed dramatically in 2016 when she experienced a massive cardiac event during which her heart function plummeted to a mere 25% of normal -- too low to receive bypass surgery, so she was outfitted with 7 (SEVEN!) stents. It took some time, but she recovered well enough to return to independent living in her apartment. However, a bone-breaking fall sent her into a spiral of surgery and rehab. After three years living with her sister, medical complications resulted in her going into professional, longterm care. Despite hearing loss and mild cognitive decline, Debbie was able to be her best self at Phoenix Mountain, exhibiting the combination of humor, stubbornness, and spirited adaptability that her family and friends were already familiar with in her. She loved to joke, she loved being greeted by the people she got to know, and she loved being able to do her favorite thing -- watching old tv shows -- without having to expend the effort of making meals or cleaning house. Debbie passed away peacefully on September 10, 2024 and will be missed by all who were privileged to know her. Her last surviving family member, sister Betsy, is grateful to the amazing staff of Phoenix Mountain Post Acute, as well as that of Noble Hospice, for the wonderful care they took of Debbie, and especially for making her last days comfortable and filled with compassion and love.