A sense of inevitability and sorrow mingled in the air with a delicate yet determined feeling of joy and community as people crowded into the commons area of the Southeast Polk High School for Mackenzy Larson’s celebration of life.

The crowd, which packed the spacious commons to the brim, had turned out to honor the life of Larson, a 17-year-old who has been battling cancer since she was 11 and was recently given a terminal diagnosis.

Light the color of wet ash illuminated the gathering on the cold Saturday afternoon in April as people gathered together in small groups. Quiet but glad conversation among eastern Polk County community members grew louder as more people came in from out of the cold to sign a guestbook and take their places at the gray cafeteria tables.

One side of the spacious area was lined with tables serving hot food donated by local businesses like Fong’s Pizza, Tursi’s Latin King, Hy-Vee and others, served up by a small militia of volunteers. Tables plated high with scotcheroos, brownies, cupcakes and rainbow-colored popcorn were quickly emptied.

It was a battle against time once Larson received her terminal diagnosis. The cerebration of life was executed with great urgency in just 10 days by the Des Moines-area oncology moms, a group brought together through the shared experience of parenting children with cancer. What started out as a Facebook group has now become a group that will sometimes put on events for children with cancer.

“The community really stepped up,” Angie Thompson, an oncology mom said of the outpouring of corporate and personal support the group received in planning and executing the quick-turn event.

The event was also supported by Angels for Sam, a central Iowa nonprofit that helps families dealing with medical expenses for families of cancer patients. Larson and her family had developed a relationship with the charity before she was diagnosed and it has supported her throughout her long illness.

Cerulean, the color of a clear blue sky and Larson’s favorite color, blotted the space: balloons, table accents, cupcake frosting — all cerulean blue. Event volunteers shone from a landscape of people in bright teal shirts emblazoned with the message “Kenzy Brave.” A quote on the back referred to the perseverance and courage Larson showed throughout the many years of chemotherapy and surgery that followed her cancer diagnosis.

A lifesize cardboard cutout of Larson stood enshrined in balloons. A portrait photo stood at the far end of a line of cafeteria tables paired with a vase of purple flowers. Children ran among the crowd with animals painted on their faces.

Local news station cameras rolled and the packed house settled down as Larson took her place of honor to the side of the memorial table. She wore all black with a simple dress and opaque shawl to match her black, shoulder-length wig, a fitting inversion of the dress she wore when she was crowned prom queen earlier this month.

As Larson looked on, stories were shared by family, friends and those who were companions on her journey. All gave speeches about their own experiences with Larson that consistently highlighted her bravery, kindness, fierceness and her commitment to her family and community.

Few made it through their prepared remarks without having to pause to compose themselves.

Larson’s mother, Deanna Taylor, gave a lyrical speech involving the repetition of the phrase “if I had known,” in which her desire to have protected her daughter poured out. Laura Terrell, an anchor at local news station KCCI, described meeting Larson on an assignment and the bond she had formed with her after covering her for years.

“The world needs more Kenzy Larsons,” Terrell said to applause.

Larson’s oncologists, surgeons, friends from school and chemotherapy, her second-grade teacher and friends from the greater community all described the assured energy that Larson showed in their shared experiencesand how she made them feel like the specter of death and disease was nothing to fear despite the fact she was the one experiencing that fear first-hand.

After the testimonials, the crowd began to disperse, and many lined up to speak one-on-one with Larson, who conversed patiently despite what had surely already been a tiring and emotionally draining experience.

It became clear by the end of the event that Larson’s celebration of life was one of her last great gifts to her community. Her own wish to witness all of the pageantry and communal grieving of a funeral while she was still alive to benefit from it allowed an entire community an opportunity for some kind of closure.

Follow the Register on Facebook and Twitter for more news. Aaron Calvin can be contacted at acalvin@dmreg.com or on Twitter @aaronpcalvin.