Whitney, Medrith E., 72, retired Wesley Medical Center registered nurse, died Thursday, March 14, 2002. Visitation 1 to 8 p.m. today, 9 a.m. to 12 p.m. Saturday, both at Hilyard-Smith Funeral Home; service 2 p.m. Saturday, Douglass United Methodist Church.
Survivors: daughters and sons-in-law, Mary and Rusty Kutz of Douglass, Beth and Randy Strothman of Wellington; five grandchildren; two stepgrandchildren; one great-grandchild. Memorial established with Douglass United Methodist Church.
Auntie - I remember the early morning sounds of breakfast and Uncles work boots across the hardwood floor before the sun rose above the horizon. I remember German Chocolate cake, popcorn in a big metal bowl, warm cookies and cold milk. I remember watching, and sometimes helping "Saint Auntie" who tenderly cared for the little boy who smashed his toe in Papa's garage still insisting to spend the night with his Auntie, then keeping her up all night long because his toe hurt. I remember her strength on the long ride home alone, just her and I, the night my brother died. I remember birthday cards, Easter cards, Christmas cards, and telephone calls from Auntie, just to say, I love you.
Most of all though, the enduring image that will forever carry with me comes from the perspective of a little boy, looking up at the open and welcoming arms of his Auntie as he "launched" himself into her embrace. It is a metaphor of her whole life. She accepted, loved, and embraced us with an unconditional love that never failed or waivered. She was the rock of our family. Becky and I were doubly blessed, we were raised by two moms. Because though I am her nephew, she treated me no less than a son.
I am a blessed and humbled man to be able to say that I am a part of this family, because I know whatever gifts and graces I have are no more than the fruit of those who have influenced my life. Today, I remember the fruit, the gifts that my Auntie has given me. I have heard many say, and I have said myself, that I have never known a perfect Christian. But I must wonder, as I look back on my life and my experience of the love and faith of my Auntie, that perhaps I have after all.
We were none of us ready to let her go, our hearts are broken. But out of the depths of the faith I know she had, I hear the words of Christ when he raised Jairus' daughter, "Talitha cum," "Little girl, get up." I hear the words of my Auntie, "when you have shared your tears, wept for me, and haved loved one another, remember the things I have shown you, remember the things I have taught you, and then get up." And we must, no matter how hard we think it will be, Auntie would have had it no other way. She is still here with us, enmeshed and embedded deep in our hearts and lives, as she will always be. She has made us strong enough, strong enough to get up and to carry on in love and faith. - Rev. Kent H. Little -
Survivors: daughters and sons-in-law, Mary and Rusty Kutz of Douglass, Beth and Randy Strothman of Wellington; five grandchildren; two stepgrandchildren; one great-grandchild. Memorial established with Douglass United Methodist Church.
Auntie - I remember the early morning sounds of breakfast and Uncles work boots across the hardwood floor before the sun rose above the horizon. I remember German Chocolate cake, popcorn in a big metal bowl, warm cookies and cold milk. I remember watching, and sometimes helping "Saint Auntie" who tenderly cared for the little boy who smashed his toe in Papa's garage still insisting to spend the night with his Auntie, then keeping her up all night long because his toe hurt. I remember her strength on the long ride home alone, just her and I, the night my brother died. I remember birthday cards, Easter cards, Christmas cards, and telephone calls from Auntie, just to say, I love you.
Most of all though, the enduring image that will forever carry with me comes from the perspective of a little boy, looking up at the open and welcoming arms of his Auntie as he "launched" himself into her embrace. It is a metaphor of her whole life. She accepted, loved, and embraced us with an unconditional love that never failed or waivered. She was the rock of our family. Becky and I were doubly blessed, we were raised by two moms. Because though I am her nephew, she treated me no less than a son.
I am a blessed and humbled man to be able to say that I am a part of this family, because I know whatever gifts and graces I have are no more than the fruit of those who have influenced my life. Today, I remember the fruit, the gifts that my Auntie has given me. I have heard many say, and I have said myself, that I have never known a perfect Christian. But I must wonder, as I look back on my life and my experience of the love and faith of my Auntie, that perhaps I have after all.
We were none of us ready to let her go, our hearts are broken. But out of the depths of the faith I know she had, I hear the words of Christ when he raised Jairus' daughter, "Talitha cum," "Little girl, get up." I hear the words of my Auntie, "when you have shared your tears, wept for me, and haved loved one another, remember the things I have shown you, remember the things I have taught you, and then get up." And we must, no matter how hard we think it will be, Auntie would have had it no other way. She is still here with us, enmeshed and embedded deep in our hearts and lives, as she will always be. She has made us strong enough, strong enough to get up and to carry on in love and faith. - Rev. Kent H. Little -
Whitney, Medrith E., 72, retired Wesley Medical Center registered nurse, died Thursday, March 14, 2002. Visitation 1 to 8 p.m. today, 9 a.m. to 12 p.m. Saturday, both at Hilyard-Smith Funeral Home; service 2 p.m. Saturday, Douglass United Methodist Church.
Survivors: daughters and sons-in-law, Mary and Rusty Kutz of Douglass, Beth and Randy Strothman of Wellington; five grandchildren; two stepgrandchildren; one great-grandchild. Memorial established with Douglass United Methodist Church.
Auntie - I remember the early morning sounds of breakfast and Uncles work boots across the hardwood floor before the sun rose above the horizon. I remember German Chocolate cake, popcorn in a big metal bowl, warm cookies and cold milk. I remember watching, and sometimes helping "Saint Auntie" who tenderly cared for the little boy who smashed his toe in Papa's garage still insisting to spend the night with his Auntie, then keeping her up all night long because his toe hurt. I remember her strength on the long ride home alone, just her and I, the night my brother died. I remember birthday cards, Easter cards, Christmas cards, and telephone calls from Auntie, just to say, I love you.
Most of all though, the enduring image that will forever carry with me comes from the perspective of a little boy, looking up at the open and welcoming arms of his Auntie as he "launched" himself into her embrace. It is a metaphor of her whole life. She accepted, loved, and embraced us with an unconditional love that never failed or waivered. She was the rock of our family. Becky and I were doubly blessed, we were raised by two moms. Because though I am her nephew, she treated me no less than a son.
I am a blessed and humbled man to be able to say that I am a part of this family, because I know whatever gifts and graces I have are no more than the fruit of those who have influenced my life. Today, I remember the fruit, the gifts that my Auntie has given me. I have heard many say, and I have said myself, that I have never known a perfect Christian. But I must wonder, as I look back on my life and my experience of the love and faith of my Auntie, that perhaps I have after all.
We were none of us ready to let her go, our hearts are broken. But out of the depths of the faith I know she had, I hear the words of Christ when he raised Jairus' daughter, "Talitha cum," "Little girl, get up." I hear the words of my Auntie, "when you have shared your tears, wept for me, and haved loved one another, remember the things I have shown you, remember the things I have taught you, and then get up." And we must, no matter how hard we think it will be, Auntie would have had it no other way. She is still here with us, enmeshed and embedded deep in our hearts and lives, as she will always be. She has made us strong enough, strong enough to get up and to carry on in love and faith. - Rev. Kent H. Little -
Survivors: daughters and sons-in-law, Mary and Rusty Kutz of Douglass, Beth and Randy Strothman of Wellington; five grandchildren; two stepgrandchildren; one great-grandchild. Memorial established with Douglass United Methodist Church.
Auntie - I remember the early morning sounds of breakfast and Uncles work boots across the hardwood floor before the sun rose above the horizon. I remember German Chocolate cake, popcorn in a big metal bowl, warm cookies and cold milk. I remember watching, and sometimes helping "Saint Auntie" who tenderly cared for the little boy who smashed his toe in Papa's garage still insisting to spend the night with his Auntie, then keeping her up all night long because his toe hurt. I remember her strength on the long ride home alone, just her and I, the night my brother died. I remember birthday cards, Easter cards, Christmas cards, and telephone calls from Auntie, just to say, I love you.
Most of all though, the enduring image that will forever carry with me comes from the perspective of a little boy, looking up at the open and welcoming arms of his Auntie as he "launched" himself into her embrace. It is a metaphor of her whole life. She accepted, loved, and embraced us with an unconditional love that never failed or waivered. She was the rock of our family. Becky and I were doubly blessed, we were raised by two moms. Because though I am her nephew, she treated me no less than a son.
I am a blessed and humbled man to be able to say that I am a part of this family, because I know whatever gifts and graces I have are no more than the fruit of those who have influenced my life. Today, I remember the fruit, the gifts that my Auntie has given me. I have heard many say, and I have said myself, that I have never known a perfect Christian. But I must wonder, as I look back on my life and my experience of the love and faith of my Auntie, that perhaps I have after all.
We were none of us ready to let her go, our hearts are broken. But out of the depths of the faith I know she had, I hear the words of Christ when he raised Jairus' daughter, "Talitha cum," "Little girl, get up." I hear the words of my Auntie, "when you have shared your tears, wept for me, and haved loved one another, remember the things I have shown you, remember the things I have taught you, and then get up." And we must, no matter how hard we think it will be, Auntie would have had it no other way. She is still here with us, enmeshed and embedded deep in our hearts and lives, as she will always be. She has made us strong enough, strong enough to get up and to carry on in love and faith. - Rev. Kent H. Little -
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