Kevin Robert Carraway (Kirby)

September 5, 1976 – September 22, 2026

With broken hearts, we share the passing of Kevin Robert Carraway (Kirby), a deeply loved son, brother, uncle, family member, and friend, and a truly one-of-a-kind man who left an unforgettable mark on the lives of so many. Kevin had a generous heart, a wandering spirit, an unmistakable sense of humor, and a wonderfully original way of moving through the world. He loved deeply, laughed loudly, and lived life entirely as himself.

Kevin was born to Maureen and Philip Carraway on September 5, 1976. The fourth of five children, his larger-than-life personality showed itself early. Charismatic, funny, and always ready with a story, Kevin loved telling anyone who would listen that he was the only Carraway child who had actually been planned, a distinction he proudly claimed throughout his life and delivered with the kind of humor that was unmistakably Kevin.

He was one of those rare people who was entirely, unmistakably himself. He had a wonderfully original way of looking at the world, a quick wit, a love of dark and unexpected humor, and a personality that could never quite be contained by the ordinary. He found joy in being different, in making people laugh, and in embracing the things he loved wholeheartedly.

Beneath all of that humor and individuality was an extraordinarily generous heart. When he cared about someone, he cared deeply. He loved hard, gave freely, and showed up for the people who mattered to him. He had a particular tenderness for people who felt overlooked, misunderstood, or as though they didn’t quite fit neatly into the world around them. He had a soft spot for the underdog and a way of making people feel accepted exactly as they were, perhaps because that was how he chose to live his own life.

That same tenderness extended to animals, especially cats. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to find and befriend them wherever he went. A stray cat on the street was never simply a stray cat to him; it was a new friend deserving of a little attention, affection, and kindness. He would stop, talk to them, love on them, and make sure that, at least for those few moments, they knew someone cared.

He also had his own wonderfully personal way of making sure the people he loved knew he was thinking of them. Birthdays, Christmas, Halloween, or just about any other occasion worthy of a card rarely passed without something from him arriving in the mail. He loved creating and sending original greeting cards to family and friends, each carrying a little piece of his personality and humor. He remembered the occasions that mattered, and he made a point of letting people know they mattered, too.

Kevin was creative and artistic in ways that showed up throughout his life, particularly through photography. He loved taking pictures and had a genuine eye for it—the ability to notice an interesting angle, a beautiful detail, or a moment others might have walked right past. Through this, he captured the world the way he saw it: with curiosity, imagination, and an appreciation for beauty in unexpected places.

That sense of wonder extended far beyond the world around him. Kevin was fascinated by outer space, the planets, and the seemingly endless possibilities beyond our own small corner of the universe. He loved the mystery of it all, the vastness, the unknown, and humanity’s desire to keep exploring and discovering what might be out there. For someone as curious and unconventional as Kevin, there was something fitting about his fascination with a universe so enormous, mysterious, and still waiting to be understood.

There were very few things he loved more wholeheartedly than Halloween. For Kevin, it was part holiday, part hobby, part personality trait, and quite possibly his favorite season of the year. He delighted in everything strange, spooky, creative, and delightfully offbeat. Halloween gave him an entire season when the unusual was celebrated, which suited him perfectly.

He loved karaoke, whether or not the room was ready for him, and believed life was better with music, laughter, and a little irreverence. His humor could be dark, odd, unexpected, and completely his own, and those who knew him knew there was usually a laugh waiting just around the corner.

He was also a wanderer at heart. Over the years, he called several places across the country home, collecting experiences, stories, and friendships everywhere he went. He never seemed to stay a stranger for long and had a remarkable ability to connect with people from all walks of life. Somewhere along the way, many of those strangers became friends. He leaves behind friendships scattered across the miles, a reflection of just how many lives he touched simply by being himself.

He held a profound love and respect for Mother Nature as well. His connection to the natural world was not simply something he appreciated; it was something he wanted to remain part of even after his death. In keeping with his wishes, he chose Recompose, a process of natural organic reduction that gently returns the body to the earth. It is a final choice that feels especially fitting for someone who loved nature so deeply: returning to the earth, becoming part of it again, and allowing new life to grow from what remains.

Kevin was unconventional in the very best sense of the word: funny, generous, passionate, curious, compassionate, wonderfully original, and impossible to duplicate. He had room in his heart for the people and creatures the world sometimes passed by. He lived as himself, loved as himself, and left this world the same way: on his own terms.

Those who loved him will miss his humor, his heart, his cards arriving at just the right time, the way he saw beauty in the world, his fascination with the stars and everything beyond them, his affection for every cat willing to give him the time of day, and the wonderfully unexpected energy he brought into their lives. Most of all, they will miss the person who had a way of reminding people, through laughter, friendship, kindness, or simply accepting them as they were, that there was room in this world for all of us.

The world will be a little less interesting, a little less funny, and a little less colorful without him in it.

Kevin is preceded in death by his mother, Maureen Carraway; maternal grandparents, Robert and Victoria Ambrose; paternal grandparents, Benjamin and Helen Carraway; aunt, Betsy Kadric; uncle, Ben Carraway; brother-in-law, Jerry Sens; his one true love, Lansing Bicknell; and his precious fur-kitties, Ziggy and Salem.

Kevin is survived by his father, Philip Carraway; brother, Kenny (Anne); sisters, Karen Sens, Cindy Carraway, and Kelley Carraway; nephews, Justin Felix, Eddy Sens, Caleb Carraway, and Aspen Carraway; nieces, Cierra Sens (Glen), Summer Sens (Dan), Josie Carraway, and Alexis Carraway; great-nephews, Ares Sens and Enoch Robbins; and numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends whose lives were made brighter, funnier, and far more interesting for having known him.

The Carraway family will host a celebration of Kevin’s life in San Antonio once the Recompose process has been completed and Kevin’s remains have been returned to the family. We look forward to gathering with family and friends to honor his memory, share stories, and celebrate the life of someone so deeply loved. The date and location will be announced as soon as arrangements are finalized.