[L) to R) – Kathy Visneski, me, Kay Mitchell]
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.“ 2 Corinthians 1:1-7
Comfort in suffering. I’ll come back to this.
Deborah Kay Mitchell – June 7, 1951 – September 19, 2026
Although Kay and I share the same first name, I only really knew her by her middle name. We have been friends for 40 years, most of that not in the same town. All of it as wives, mothers, nurses, Christians, and Southern women.
She has been deeply on my heart over the last several days because, as you can tell by the dates above, she is no longer with us…and yet she is. You see Kay was a force of nature. She was not one easily cast aside. In fact, never. She was an impassioned, stubborn, formidable, brilliant, funny, no-nonsense, Godly woman. This world, upon her exit, is a little dimmer, but immeasurably better because of her very existence in it.
Deborah Kay Mitchell – Obituary
I met Kay early in 1986. Right out of grad school, my husband Dave had taken a research chemist job in Kingsport, Tn. I applied also for a job as clinical nursing specialist job in the cancer center at Holston Valley Hospital. Getting the job, I remember the first day with Mrs. Ketron, the director of nursing, touring me around the hospital. She walked me onto the oncology unit, and one of the first nurses I met was Kay. A petite woman, dark hair and dark eyes, completely unimpressed with me. As she should have been.
We were in our 30s, Kay and I, same age, but I was always 6 months older (which she would use against me as it suited). I was brand-new in a very different culture. As young as she was, she carried a posture of unfazed authority. She would take her time sizing me up…but not too long, fortunately.
I was so thankful that we, sooner than later, became friends and fellows-in-arms, caring for patients, families, and staff.
Not long after I became part of the cancer center staff, Kay took the role of nurse manager. Kathy Visneski soon joined our ranks as a nurse researcher/educator. We three worked closely together in those years – dreaming, planning, and executing strategy, support, and training for some of the best nurses we would ever know. As nurse manager, Kay would both work our proposals through the chains of command and weave them into our culture.
Kay was an operational wizard. She didn’t need the spot-light ever. Her goal always seemed to be bringing out the best in others. She was what author Joyce Landorf Heatherley called “Balcony People” – encouragers who stand and cheer us on. Kay had a knack for coming alongside and encouraging folks to be the person for the job, or to do what’s needed whatever it is…to grow into a person of greater capacity.
Kay encouraged me (us) in ways that didn’t pamper or coddle. She was a true leader – instilling support and confidence. She wasn’t shy to say, in love, what someone needed to hear and, spot-on, when they needed to hear it. Not from a distance either. She was right there in the proverbial muck with us.
When we were new in our relationship as both friends and colleagues, she was instrumental in helping me win the confidence of the cancer nursing staff. I leaned on Kay for counsel and kindness. She taught me a whole new understanding of the phrase, “Get over it!” and “Get over yourself!”
It may seem counter-intuitive to be encouraged by such attitude, but underneath was a tough and total love. Not just something I experienced from her but everyone who allowed her to come close to them. Kay wasn’t smarmy or overly sentimental, but she truly and deeply cared about people.
We were nurses together, Christians together, and moms together. Her two kiddos were maybe middle and high school age as I began having our three children. That “get over yourself” advice was so helpful as I questioned my parenting skill. I needed to hear the wisdom that came after, but to hear it, Kay knew I had to get out of my own head. She was so wise and managed to meet the challenges of parenting, as with cancer nursing, with wit and humor.
Our oldest child remembers Kay. When our Christie was just 4 y/o, she went for several days with an undiagnosed ruptured appendix. It wasn’t for lack of trying for a diagnosis. We were in the pediatrician’s office daily until on the 5th day, they finally determined that our stoic little girl had a belly full of infection. Kay (and friend Kathy) were right there with us through the two weeks of hospitalization post-appendectomy. In fact, Christie still has a pillowcase Kay gave her while in-hospital. It was a Sandra Boynton cartoon image entitled “Keep Smiling”.
So Kay.
She always treated little people like big people. How blessed her own three grandchildren are to have such a grandmother.
At some later date, our little Christie even got a celebratory ride in Kay’s convertible.
[Kay even made it to Christie’s wedding many years later]
In 1994, just 8 years after becoming friends, our family moved away and then overseas. The majority of our years as friends were from a distance. It didn’t matter. Every visit. Every phone call. Completely life-giving and full of laughter. We shared the sadnesses as well. Deaths, illnesses and hardships of people we loved…changes. In recent years, after some mini-strokes, Kay developed dementia. In our phone calls, she would always start, “You know I have dementia now.” It did not at all dampen her indomitable spirit. Most of our shared memories were of years past and she was still able to recall those. Nor did the dementia dim her faith. We both loved Jesus and our families and the lives God had given us…with all the bumps in the road.
A couple of years ago, Kay and I had one of our catch-up phone calls. She told me a story. A few months earlier she had a knee replacement surgery. Years of nursing, like with many professions, are hard on our knees. As she was “ambulated” – being walked in the hall shortly after surgery, she was in the company of nursing friends who’d come to see her. Friends from the era we shared. Like Kay, they had gotten older (it is odd how we get older but still, with each other, feel the full vigor of life shared in the workplace). It must have been a sight, this nurse “patient” and her friends filling the hall, walking slowly together, in conversation and encouragement. A physical therapist observing them captured the scene with the word, “Hall-of-Famers”. These women who were known and, as it should be, revered.
Kay was at the core of that hall of fame.
[Kay & Rhonda – close nursing friends for many many years]
How many nurses’ lives she influenced. How many patients rallied and families took heart in her care. How many moms and their children in her church benefited from Kay’s love and pointing them ever to Jesus. You knew you had been seen and known when Kay was in the room.
So how do people become “hall-of-famers”? Remembered with tremendous fondness and honor. I know one thing about Kay – she was a servant leader. She never asked of anyone else what she wasn’t willing to do herself…and more than not, right there with you doing whatever it was.
A leader like Kay, as described by Collins and Collins, is “‘compelled by an unshakeable desire to serve’. Servants generally don’t have a choice, but a servant leader, through humility, chooses to put others first…When we see someone step up in a difficult situation and commit themselves wholly because it is the right thing to do, we are more likely to join with them for the long journey. The unconditional nature of serving may be the most defining quality”. These authors could have been writing about Kay.
Steadfast. Hard-working. Funny. Resilient. Intelligent. Caring. Persevering. Ever hopeful. Constant in faith. Full of life and love.
Less than two weeks ago, Kay got very ill. Within hours, she was in ICU and with all the best treatment, she would not improve. As in her amazing life, she made the call – she seemed to know it was time and she expressed as much. She left this world quietly to enter Eternity – whole and mentally healed – her full self – even more beautiful than she was here.
Comfort in suffering. Kay never shied away from the hard. She faced things head-on and gave courage to all of us around her to do the same. She trusted a good God. I saw Jesus in her…always.
She shouldered her own suffering because she knew she wasn’t alone. God was present. Those who loved her were there for her. She was comforted…and she passed that comfort onto others. Always.
She would probably hate all this attention…that’s why it took me some days to put it out here. She’s now in a better place, and it’s up to us to live as she lived – to do what we can to make this a better place, to extend ourselves to others, to see the humor and irony in this life, and to watch God cut through the silly smallness in life to display the grandness just there in the distance…we can see it if we take our eyes off ourselves…and look. It’s closer than we think.
Thank you, Kay. Thank God for you.
“…in Him it is always Yes. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why it is through him that we utter our Amen to God for his glory. And it is God who establishes us with you in Christ, and has anointed us, and who has also put his seal on us and given us his Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee.” – 2 Corinthians 1:19c-22
Monday Morning Moment – Hall-of-Famers and What Makes Them So – Deb Mills
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