It is with heavy hearts that we share the news of our mother’s passing. She left us peacefully on the morning of May 4th surrounded by love. Our Mom poured her heart and soul into this blog and into her many beautiful books. Your support and engagement meant the world to her and she cherished every interaction.
While she may no longer be with us physically, her spirit and the wisdom she imparted through her words will continue to inspire us. We find solace in knowing that her legacy lives on through her words.
Obituary
Kaye Park Hinckley, beloved wife, mother, grandmother, aunt, cousin, and friend entered eternal life peacefully at her home in Dothan, Alabama on May 4, 2024, at the age of 79 after bravely battling cancer.
Born and raised in Dothan, Alabama, Kaye graduated from Dothan High School in 1962 and later earned a Bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts from Spring Hill College in 1966. It was there that Kaye met the love of her life and best friend, George. They were married at St. Columba Catholic Church in Dothan on August 6, 1966. Kaye embraced the role of motherhood with grace, raising five children and anticipating the arrival of her 14th grandchild in August.
Kaye is survived by her devoted husband of nearly 58 years, George, her sister Mary and her five children, Stephanie Hellmers, Chris Hinckley, Sheila Hoots, Anne Marie Noll, and Patrick Hinckley, her three sons-in-law, Chip Hellmers, Matt Hoots, and Pat Noll and daughters-in-law, Heather Hinckley and Cara Hinckley. Kaye also leaves behind fourteen very treasured grandchildren, Carl (Rose), Thomas (Brianna), Will, Ally, Daniel, Anthony, Matthew, Caroline, John Patrick, Susanna, Georgia, James Park, Camille, baby Hinckley, and nieces and cousins. She is preceded in death by her parents, James and Dorothy Park, and her grandparents, Kenneth and Ethel Shealy.
Kaye’s legacy was one of remarkable achievements. An award-winning author, a former advertising agency owner, and a gifted artist, she was blessed with many talents. Yet, above all, Kaye’s most profound impact was felt in her role as a mother. Kaye’s unwavering faith, hope, and love, rooted deeply in her Catholic faith, left a permanent mark on all who knew her. Kaye’s devotion to family and her firm belief in goodness made her a true guiding light. Her profound influence will forever resonate in the lives of her children, who consider themselves blessed to have had her as their mother.
The family would like to extend a special thank you to Father Patrick Gallagher for his continued love and support and to Dayspring Hospice for their care during Kaye’s illness.
Visitation will be held at Glover Funeral Home on Thursday, May 9th at 6:00 p.m. followed by the rosary at 7:00 p.m. A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated on Friday, May 10th at 10:30 a.m. at St. Columba Catholic Church Chapel. Burial will follow Memory Hill Cemetery with Glover Funeral Home directing.
Glover Funeral Home has been entrusted with the arrangements. (334) 699-3888. Please sign the guestbook online at http://www.gloverfuneral.com
Happy Mother’s Day! And congratulations to those of you who are mothers, and to the mothers you had.
If you are a mother, you know that Love–as in “Mama’s Love”–is not a noun with a possessive adjective preceding it. It’s an action, one that lasts a lifetime. I know this from loving my own children. But I also know it from the love of my mother.
I was a shy child, always I wanted my hand in the hand of my mother. And her hand was always there. Sometimes not physically–after all, I had to grow up, be courageous, lose my timidity. She helped me do that. She saw that I loved to draw and gave me art lessons. Everything I drew or painted, she was proud of and showed it off–especially to her Bridge Club, a group of ladies who ended up playing bridge together, once a week for fifty years!
But still, the idea of her hand in mine, and the knowledge she would be there for me, no matter what, was pasted into my thoughts. It gave me security. SHE gave me security. She gave me confidence in myself.
And she prayed for me, and for our family and friends. I remember kneeling around her bed at night for the rosary. Many times I wanted to do something else. For those who are not Catholic, the five decades of the rosary usually end with a prayer to the Blessed Mother, “Hail Holy Queen.” But not for my mother! She went on, with prayers to St. Jude for the sick and hopeless, prayers to St. Michael for our protection, prayers to the Holy Spirit that we might have courage, and on and on. And me? I used to pray for the phone to ring!
My mother was a beautiful woman—really. She received many compliments for that, but she knew people, too. She knew when words were just show, and when they were sincere. “People will sometimes tell you what they think you want to hear. Use your head to determine the truth.” Not to be taken in by everything I read or heard was another thing she passed to me.
My mother had an ability to read people. And sometimes I thought she read them a little too harshly. She was honestly compassionate, but occasionally, she dug her heels in when it came to who I was allowed to be around, or date. My mother had standards, and in her mind, people would either accept her principles, or –should I say?–depart from her company—because she changed her deepest principles for no one. One more characteristic she set into me.
As far as her Faith–it was simple. Simple, yet astounding at times. She grew up Catholic in the Protestant South, one of only three or four Catholics in her high school. She never denied it. She never shrank from it around her Protestant, and Jewish, friends–and she had many, caring about each one. But it was her church she loved and was faithful to, the same little white church I grew up in. One more precious gift–my Faith. So, thank you, Mama, for loving me. You were and always will be, my Rock.
One year ago today, our precious Mom, wife, sister, cousin and friend left this world for heaven. I still have trouble believing that she is gone. The day she left, time seemed to stop. Everything feels different now –quieter and not quite whole. Grief has its own rhythm and I think I can speak for my Dad, sisters and brothers – each day is different. Some days are easier and some days are just plain hard. It hasn’t gotten any easier over the year, just different. I’ve mentioned before how grateful I am to still have the gift of her words in her blog and her books. I found an old blog post that I have included below that seem to sum things up just perfectly. Her words continue to comfort, guide and remind me that she’s never really that far away. As she writes below: “The veil between life and death is decidedly thin, and certainly no barrier to God.”
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“Because God is never cruel, there is a reason for all things. We must know the pain of loss; because if we never knew it, we would have no compassion for others, and we would become monsters of self-regard, creatures of unalloyed self-interest. The terrible pain of loss teaches humility to our prideful kind, has the power to soften uncaring hearts, to make a better person of a good one.” —Dean Koontz, The Darkest Evening of the Year
At some time in our lives, each of us will lose someone we love. We will attend a funeral, stand at a cemetery, and later, visit a grave. We will remember the last time we saw them. We may wish we’d said something different than what we actually said. We will long for their companionship.
But we will also laugh at some of the memories we have of them. We will find ourselves doing the things they did, in just the way they did them. We will think and say what they might have said if they were here now. We will keep them within us, refer to them when speaking to family members, and by doing so we’ll continue their memory.
And hopefully, we will ask them to pray for us–for I believe they are able to do so. The veil between life and death is decidedly thin, and certainly no barrier to God.
Life is certainly a circle. Where does it end? Where does it begin? This is known only in the mind of our Creator whose nature is Love, itself.
So, we are sad when we lose someone we love, but to be honest the sadness is mostly for ourselves and the despair of what we’ll do without them. I think we ought to remember that the soul of a beloved never dies, that he or she is eternally loved by God, just as we will be when we are reunited with those who meant the world to us.
March is National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month, a time to raise awareness about the 2nd deadliest cancer in the United States. My precious mom, Kaye Hinckley, passed away from metastatic colon cancer just 10 months ago, so I feel that it is very important to emphasize the importance of early screenings, particularly since this disease is becoming more common in younger adults.
I’m very proud of my sister-in-law, Cara Hinckley, a Nurse Practitioner in Oncology, who was a true blessing to Mom and to all of us during her illness. Cara is also a partner with the New Promise Cancer Foundation in our hometown of Dothan, Alabama. This foundation provides financial assistance and support services to local cancer patients and their families who are facing the overwhelming challenges of cancer and are in need of financial assistance.
I encourage you to consider donating to this wonderful cause which eases the financial burden many families face during such a difficult time. Your contribution will make a direct impact on those who need it most. Please click the link below to make a contribution today. Donations of $100.00 or more will receive a copy of one of my Mom’s books.
Today, our precious Mom would have turned 80 years old, though I don’t think she ever truly aged—and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have been thrilled with me sharing her age here! She had a presence that people were drawn to—her smile and laugh could light up a room. She genuinely just knew how to make people feel good–whether you knew her for years or you just made small talk with her at the grocery store, she always had kind words or compliments that went along with her sweet smile.
A little story: Anytime she or any of us needed to boost our mood, she’d play “I Feel Good” by James Brown. It always worked! And in what I believe was a sign from her, a few days before her funeral, my siblings and I had lunch at a Mexican restaurant in Dothan. About a minute after my brother Patrick, who was the last to arrive, sat down, “I Feel Good” played on the radio. Not a typical song for a Mexican restaurant! We knew it was her way of telling us everything was going to be okay. So, if you’re ever having a rough day, give that song a listen—it just might lift your spirits, just like it did for her.
In her 80 years of life she accomplished so much and touched so many lives—as the mom of five, grandmother to fourteen, and, most of all, the beloved wife to our Dad. She called each of us, “her favorite child” — although I’m pretty sure that I was the true favorite — just kidding!
It’s been almost six months since she left us, which still feels very surreal, like time has both rushed by and stood still. It’s hard to believe she’s no longer here with us. None of us were ready for her to go; we all thought she was invincible. But God had other plans for her.
I know that my Dad and siblings all agree – life is so different now in numerous ways. Some days are better than others, but she is always on my mind. She was, and still is, such a big part of me. Even though we lived miles apart, our phone calls were frequent, and her voice and advice always brought me comfort. The sadness can be overwhelming at times. There’s a huge piece of my heart that feels missing—a strange emptiness that remains while the world continues moving around me. But even with the sadness, I feel a sense of peace knowing she’s in heaven, watching over us. I can feel her presence with me, hear her voice in my heart and I dream of her. And I know that we’ll be together again one day.
On her birthday, I want to celebrate the wonderful, beautiful person she was. She was the best mom and grandmother anyone could ask for, and she was incredibly gifted in all she did. While she was never one to “toot her own horn,” I’m going to do it for her! Many of you know she was an award-winning writer who spent years creating beautiful short stories, novels and even screenplays. In her earlier years she was an artist, advertising agency owner and songwriter, too. She had ten published novels and was in the process of writing her eleventh! While I love her books, what brings me even more comfort now is her blog, which she wrote almost daily for nearly 10 years.
It’s a blessing to be able to read her words, which continue to offer me guidance, wisdom and comfort. I am grateful for this gift that she left us that will last forever. She poured her heart into her writing and I don’t want her work to be forgotten. If you haven’t already, please take a moment in her honor to explore her books (I’ll include the link below). Many are available for free on Kindle, although I love having the hardcopies. But more than anything, I’d love for you to read more of her blog. Her words may inspire you just as much as they continue to inspire me. While I’m currently reworking her regular author website, her blog will be still up and running.
In closing, I want to share a quote from a past blog post that she wrote on her birthday several years back:
“I’m grateful for the happy times I’ve experienced, and for the lessons learned through the sad times. God is truly awesome. I don’t know how anyone goes through life without knowing Him. He is my greatest, continuing birthday gift. Oh Lord, How Great Thou Art for giving me this life. And for never leaving me alone while I live it.” —Kaye Park Hinckley
Happy Birthday, Mom! We love you more than words and miss you beyond measure. Thank you for all that you have given us.
Today, August 6th, marks our parent’s 58th wedding anniversary. Though our precious Mom is no longer with us on earth, the legacy of their love remains. It lives on in our Dad’s heart and his many wonderful memories, in the lives of our siblings, and in our own marriages. Their commitment to each other and to our family created a foundation that has shaped our lives in countless ways. We each carry their values, their lessons and their love in our daily lives. The love that began with my parents and expanded to the five of us, also includes our five spouses and now their fourteengrandchildren as the newest member of our family was just born on August 2nd! These grandchildren are a living testament to our parent’s enduring love. I am beyond grateful for their example and although our Mom is not physically here to celebrate this day with our Dad, she is present with all of us through the family that she and Dad have created.
Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!
Below, are some photos from their wedding on August 6, 1966 at St. Columba Catholic Church in Dothan, Alabama in the “old church” or now “the chapel.” Most of us were also married in this same chapel so it holds a great importance to us. Mom and Dad celebrated their 50th anniversary there in 2016 and renewed their vows with the late Father Patrick Maher, who also married them there in 1966.
Included below the photos is one of my Mom’s many past blog posts about marriage as I thought it was fitting for the day. We feel incredibly grateful to have years of her wisdom captured in these posts, which we can revisit and cherish for years to come.
“Falling Out of the Marriage Boat?”
By: Kaye Hinckley, December 13, 2022
My husband and I have been married for fifty-six years, so I know a little bit about the subject. Marriage can be viewed through many spectrums: love, of course; sacrifice; commitment; responsibility; patience, forgiveness, and courage. But since I’m a writer, I’ll use the poetic analogy of a boat for the married state. I began the adventure of marriage sailing in one boat with a man I fell in love with. In time, five children took up resident in our boat, as well as thirteen grandchildren plus suitcases of sporadic joys and sorrows, constantly opening and closing. Yet, the vessel never seemed too small for any of us. And even on very wide waters, in sometimes frightening weather, our little boat never stopped its aim for the farthest shore. Looking back, I call that a mystery.
I have asked myself the question: How did my husband and I last through for these fifty-six years? Because there were times. . . .Oh yes, there were times, when each of us may have wanted to ‘get out of the boat’ and be done with the trip, but again, because of some mystery, we remained.
My husband and I met when we were seventeen years old as freshmen at Spring Hill College in Mobile, AL. He was from North Alabama, a transplanted Yankee only a year before. I was a dyed-in-the-wool Southern girl born and raised in South Alabama. He borrowed a pencil from me in Theology class, and broke it. Later he told me he’d broken it purposely so he could stop me after class and give me a verbal apology. We were at once attracted to each other. Who knows why that happens–instant attraction—except it did. And what is that fragile web of affection between a man and a woman that teases by word and touch, by sight and appetite, and fastens two separate souls into one? Well, I call that a mystery, too.
I was an art major, and he was a history major with an eye to Law School. In ways, we were complete opposites. I saw our life together as a painting in progress, a changing of colors from dark to light to brilliant, and sometimes back again to start all over with darkness, requiring a complete and utter gesso of the canvas. He saw it measured against the annals of what succeeds and what doesn’t. He was–and is–the logical foundation. I am a believer in imagination, always wanting to paint things a little brighter. But we are the same when it comes to seeing our marriage as our most important vocation, the vehicle which will take us to heaven. We see our marriage as a sacrament. Another mystery? I think so.
In the original Greek scripture, the word for “mystery” actually meant “sacrament.” The sacrament of marriage was intended to reflect the unremitting love that Christ has for His people, the Church. My husband and I never considered that we could, or would, get out of our Catholic marriage, no matter how many bad times we would go through–and there have been many. In other words, we believe in the mystery and in the sacrament.
Today, the concept of marriage, who and what it’s for, has changed in the eyes of many people who are unwilling to take on the honest commitment that marriage requires. These are spouses– husband and wife, or both–who have been led to believe that “Life is all about ME.” That statement is poison to marriage and family, because it makes marriage as disposable as a paper plate, a sign of our times. Today, many weddings seem to be only expensive occasions to party, and afterwards, the marriage sometimes bears little resemblance to the sacrament of Holy Matrimony as God intended it to be–husband and wife holding on to each other through good and bad times in a vehicle of His grace, helping each other to become the best person each can be.
And if any vocation needs grace to survive, it is surely marriage. Because if we fall out of the marriage boat and drown, we may watch our children drown with us.
No matter how well matched they may be, it is not easy for any two people to live together day in and day out, year after year, with their inescapable faults and personality defects grating upon each other. It’s not easy to help one another grow in goodness and nobility in spite of those faults—little by little adjusting to one another so that the faults of one “fit in” to the perfections of the other and unity arises from the very differences of the two persons. This is a beautiful evolution, like the emergence of the butterfly from its chrysalis; but it is not easy. No matter how selfless a couple may be, it is not easy for them to face the prospect of responsible parenthood, with all the sacrifices that entails. Especially it is not easy to face the prospect of an ultimate judgment, in which they will have to answer to God for the souls of the children who have been entrusted to them..–beginningcatholic.com
Traditional marriage is a sacrament instituted by God who loves us. It is His grace that gives us commitment to keep going. And yes, the water IS wide, the boat sometimes constricting, and the trip often difficult. But love that works through difficulties can lead to holiness and everlasting life with God.
I’ve known a few people in life who’ve given up hope. Desperate people who blame themselves, or worse blame others for the demolished state they’re in.
They don’t believe they can be fixed.
Not true.
God can fix anything or anyone.
What is required for that kind of fixing?
Surrender is required.
Acceptance is required.
An emptying of self is required.
EXCUSE: Those are words, and the accomplishing of them isn’t easy.
We all like to think of ourselves as whole and complete people. We like to think of ourselves as good, as doing ‘right’ things. But are we doing those things? Most of us fall far from it. No matter how much we’d like to be good and whole, we live in a world that often tempts us otherwise. And too often we follow it. A following that actually breaks us. But we don’t have to stay broken.
God is truly God of the Broken.
God’s grace is infinitely available. We only have to want it, to take advantage of it. We only have to trust in Him. We only have to turn around and see Him behind us, possibly in the face and actions of a caring human being that He’s called to help us. And even possible in something adverse that happens to us.
Our lives will change then; maybe in ways we never imagined, or maybe in the way we’ve prayed for. Whatever–we will be transformed.
Can you think of a time in your life when you were so down, so miserable, that you couldn’t put one foot in front of the other? Grace is very present in these circumstances. Often, the time we encounter God’s grace is when our life hangs in the balance. Especially in our sins, God encounters us, offering us grace and mercy and redemption.
It is a ‘waiting’ grace, waiting for us to take it. Maybe we have to admit our weaknesses. Maybe we have to give up what is dragging us down. Maybe we need to dig deeper for courage, or patience with others, or let go of our anger, or forgive another. Or unfortunately, maybe we just ignore its presence.
But we should never imagine that God is not present. Instead, we should imagine ourselves reaching out to Him, to realize that being broken at a given moment does not mean being broken forever.
And it is, after all, up to us.
Because we are all broken people yearning to be whole, and that wholeness is within our reach.
My novels and short stories revolve around this, too. Some of the characters don’t realize it at first. They refuse to see themselves as they really are. Others are shattered, or left behind, by someone they’ve loved. But then, as in life, something changes for them, or more specifically in them. Some of my characters, but not all of them, recognize an offer of healing. The recognition comes when GRACE is offered.
I can’t say enough good about the work of Dan Stevers. I’ve used Dan’s videos in several of my presentations because we are on the same page—especially in the following video, God of the Broken.
I have been on this earth for quite a few years, more than I sometimes like to admit. And I have had much joy, happiness, and fulfillment. But these gifts cannot be taken for granted. There have been several times in my life when I thought my happy life might be completely over, times when every day seemed to work against me, when every night was filled with tears and worry. If we are human beings, all of us at one time or another will experience these feelings concerning something negative that has happened to us. How do we get through them?
Well, we don’t/can’t do it on our own. We may be the most powerful person around, but we are not powerful enough to change events that hit us out of the blue, events completely out of our hands, those truly crushing events that cause our hearts to beat wildly in our chests, shaking our very existence. We cannot change these sort of events. They just are. So, do we just lay down and take it? Is there any weapon in the arsenal of our humanity that can help us?
Oh yes! A very crucial one. And without it, we don’t survive. It is called HOPE. It does not come loudly. It does not come uninvited. And it does not come without two friends: strong FAITH and unselfish LOVE.
HOPE is not something we can buy, or that we create in ourselves. It comes only through God, our Creator, who loves us. HOPE is closely related to TRUST—that action that is often hard for us to do. Because to do it we have to let go of control, of trying to manipulate things ourselves. HOPE is when we look up, not down, because the spiritual part of our human nature is calling us to look at higher things.
To let go, to trust, to hope, are not things our society pushes today. We are supposed to be in control of our lives, to be strong, and maybe even to be gods ourselves. Of course, this is falsity, for there is only one God, and not one of us is Him. We will never be able to get rid of our misery and truly hope until we’ve accepted that.
So, if you are going through a trauma in your life, open yourself up to HOPE by returning to the God who made you, and sincerely ask for His gifts of strong Faith and unselfish Love. These are gifts He will never deny you.
God will never, never, never let us down if we have faith and put our trust in Him. –Mother Teresa
Translating a World on the Edge 