Alice Has Gone Home

My great aunt Alice has gone home. At two months short of one hundred and one years on this earth, she has at last gone to be with her friends and family. Although I never had the opportunity to get to know Alice Kearns well, I knew enough about her to know she was an extraordinary lady, full of grace and love. I learned a lot of new things about her at her funeral celebration; and it truly was a celebration. There were tears, how could there not be, but there were just as many smiles and laughter.

Rev. David Wickins of the Clymer United Methodist Church gave the eulogy for Alice, and it was the most lovely, personal tribute I’ve ever heard. Rev. Wickins spoke from the heart and from experience and he made the service a celebration of Alice’s life, with references to all the aspects of her long stay on this earth. I want to share with you a few stories that were told about Alice Kearns, and my apologies in advance for any information I have “misremembered” or gotten wrong.

Alice met her future husband on the basketball court. The story went something like this: Alice played basketball (that in itself amazes me since she was a very petite little woman) and the referee for the games kept calling fouls on her when she knew she hadn’t fouled. Turns out Albert “Bub” Kearns just wanted her to notice him; and he figured the easiest was to foul her out repeatedly until she got mad and confronted him. I guess it worked for they got married in 1928. Forty eight years later, in 1976, her beloved Bub passed.

Aunt Alice grew up on a farm in Sherman and was no stranger to hard work. Although I missed the details, one of the woman at the funeral stood up and told the story about how there was a child who’d gotten her boot stuck in the mud and couldn’t get it out. Another youngster ran for help and when Alice and a couple younger women heard the yelling, they set off at a run to rescue the “stick in the mud.” Upon coming to a fence, the two other women tried to climb over, but Alice, not young anymore at that time, simply lay down on the ground and rolled under it. I’m not sure that’s exactly how the story went, it was hard to hear, but that’s as close as I can come.

In her almost one hundred and one years, Alice thought the greatest invention of the century was the electric toaster. However, Alice’s toast had to be made to her exact specifications. The toast must go into the toaster the night before and then sit there overnight. She knew when it hadn’t been done properly and evidently the nursing home where she lived the last two weeks of her life just couldn’t get it right.

Although not the youngest of the family of eight children of Hercules and May Coxen Near, Alice May was the last of her generation to pass away. She was always busy with her knitting or canning, right up to the end of her long and fulfilling life. She embraced each new day, looking forward to what it might bring. She didn’t want to be the center of attention, and would probably scoff at this tribute to her. Her legacy is one of love and caring, and I can only hope, should I be blessed to live so long in such good health, that I can be remembered with such fond memories as those she has left behind. Not goodbye Aunt Alice, but until we meet again.