Mildred (Millie) Finley

Mildred “Millie” Mlinarsky Finley was born in Old Forge, Pennsylvania on September 28, 1933. She was the only child of William O. and Violet Mlinarski. Millie graduated from Taylor High School in Taylor, Pennsylvania, where she was captain of the cheerleaders. In 1956, she graduated from Allentown Hospital nursing school, in Pennsylvania.

Millie married James “Jim” Otis Finley in October 1972 and he instantly became a step-father of five. They moved to Texas in 1977 and she continued her career in nursing and also worked in Real Estate. Millie and Jim were founding members of Christ Church Plano. She played a significant role in Telecare and was a soprano in the choir. They celebrated 45 years of marriage. Jim died on September 15, 2018. She was a widow for 4 ½ days.

She is survived by her five children; sons William B. Kutney, Sr. (Heidi), Francis G. Kutney, Jr. (Kathy Lester), Robert A. Kutney, Daniel E. Mlinarski and daughter Lynn M. Morales (Keith). Millie had 7 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren.

A joint Visitation for both Millie and Jim will be held on Wednesday, September 26, 2018, from 6:00 – 8:00 P.M. at Allen Family Funeral Options. There will be a joint memorial service with her husband Jim Finley on Thursday, September 27, 2018 at 10:30 A.M. at Christ Church Plano, 4550 Legacy Dr., Plano, Texas 75024 officiated by The Very Reverend Canon Paul Donison.

A reception will be held immediately following the memorial service.

In lieu of flowers, the family wishes donations, in Millie and Jim’s name, be made to the Christ Church Missions Fund , 4550 Legacy Drive, Plano, Texas 75024 or the Williamson College of the Trades , 106 S. New Middletown Road, Media, Pennsylvania 19063, Williamson.edu or phone 610-566-1776.

A Letter to Mom

From: Your Daughter by Birth, Friend by Choice

Dear Mom,

You have been a  woman I have loved and admired.  Each picture I have seen is one of a vibrant and talented lady.  Dancer, poet and what an amazing singer.  Family oriented, you expressed such delightful memories of your younger years and your love for your Mother and Father and so many Aunts and Uncles.  I remember the love you showed toward each of them and how they lit up when you walked in a room.

As an only child, you experienced sadness because of siblings who died at birth.  Many do not understand the grief a person will carry over siblings they would never get to know.  I heard you express times of grief over the loss of your cousin, Walter, in WWII.  Fears you faced each day wondering if your Daddy would come home from the coal mine at the end of the day. During those times, people kept to themselves and did not speak much of emotions, but you always shared with me a pride and happiness about your upbringing.

As you grew into a young woman and became a mother of five, you rose above the parenting examples that were set by the generations before you.  From God above, you gained the wisdom to raise your children during your divorce from our Father. You overcame so much more than your children knew.

You often had to demonstrate “tough love”.  I observed you be there for us when choices were made that created hardship and sacrifice for you as a mother; wrecked cars, substance abuse, run-ins with the law.  Children come with no owners manual, yet, you often seemed to know how to handle what came up.  I watched the pain in your eyes as you had to make some very tough decisions around how best to support us, even if that meant you had to allow us to deal with the consequences of our actions no matter how serious.  I watched as you gave so much of yourself to your children; helping with cars, homes and remembering every birthday.  Each gift selected with love for the individual.

The courage you demonstrated as you made the biggest move of your life with Dad (Jim) to Texas to protect us from going down a path we might regret.  You moved away from your parents, other family and everything you knew to give your children a fresh start. How hard that must have been for you.  With Jim leading the way, you both remained positive and encouraged about our future.

Many do not know the physical pain you endured and your example to fight back after a very serious back surgery in the early seventies.  What a courageous woman. You made sure that you got up each day and were MOVING despite doctors that told you walking would be difficult later in life.  You NEVER stopped walking.  I am so proud of you!

My earliest memories of you singing to me in the bathtub put a smile on my face and recently set the example for an opportunity I had to help you in the tub where we pulled out some songs to make the event fun.  So many songs from musicals I learned. What an amazing voice.  You won many awards for your creative abilities. I remember so many Easter and Christmas Services where Dan and I would hear your soprano voice above the other members of the choir and we would say, “ That was Mom!”  And as always, you nailed it!

You also had impeccable taste.  You kept a beautiful home and always wanted to look your best from your attire (my Cheetah girl), to hair and nails. Poor Dad and his disdain for Steinmart!

You taught me, Mom, how to be positive and you encouraged me to listen to uplifting messages.  Where did you find the will to overcome and better yourself and also pass that along to the next generation?

I remember being so proud of you as a nurse.  And you were smarter than any doctor.  You knew how to mend and fix any ailment that came up and with four romping boys, you encountered more than your share of broken body parts, cuts, scrapes, black eyes and stitches. And nothing was more comforting than to know my mom was the school nurse at Roosevelt Elementary.  Always a sense of security knowing you were just down the hall, “except for the time you heard my teacher ask me to be quiet in line.”

You taught me responsibility and how to be independent.  I remember when you left nursing and ventured off into real estate.  You would give me daily tasks to prepare your latest mailing or door stuffers.  These would be the things that kept me (and my friends) busy during the summer.  (You see, I couldn’t play, until the job was done.)

I learned that you led me in my life to the next important part of my journey. You had an amazing sixth sense for this. My jobs and later career decisions, were led by you.  I followed and they worked out really well including my 27 year career and my current Health and Wellness practice.

Your example through my life, especially when I went off to college, is what I followed as I had to walk you through the hardest journey of our lives.  How your amazing brain was compromised after a small stroke and the journey of vascular dementia began in 2009.  I only grew to understand in the last two years how best to look in your eyes and try to understand your needs.  The frustration I know you felt in trying to get your message out.  Hearing you say, “You are doing a good job” these last few months was your way of letting me know I was finally learning how not to “Push you”, in your words, but gently help you address your needs.  The worst part is, as a psychiatric nurse, I know you knew what was happening.  How many days I cried for you and me.  However, with the determination I learned from you, I looked for solutions to help.  How my heart would break when I tried to find ways to help your mind rest. You knew what you wanted and the journey had to be so much worse inside your head as you struggled to understand the choices we had to make.

Days before your passing, you had expressed in great detail how you needed to be with Jim.  In that amazing capacity and your moments of clarity, you visited Jim with me and accurately shared your nursing expertise much to the amazement of fellow nurses around you. Jim led the way for you each time life transitions happened right down to going ahead of you to heaven.

You were a bright spot at your senior community and I know how much they loved you. These last few months, I saw how many people would see you in the hallway and say “Hi Millie!”  So many strangers walked up to me to tell me what a wonderful woman Millie is.  I watched you once again, be an encourager to the staff that cared for you.  What a difficult and challenging job they have.  I would often hear you tell them, “You are doing a good job”.  I know they appreciated those words from you as so few receive encouragement in life.  And what an amazing helper you were  to the management team with filing, editing important papers, rearranging and relocating important items to new locations.

Your passing took us by surprise.  Although, it shouldn’t have. You repeatedly shared you were ready to go. And the fact that you missed your hair appointment Wednesday to go to heaven, tells me, heaven must be a pretty spectacular place! I know that we Fought the Good Fight together but, no place on earth could bring you peace like you could find in heaven.  I am grateful you are no longer suffering and you are with your Jim. You no longer need to ask ”Where’s Jim?”

This is not a time to say Goodbye, but rather I Love You and this I promise:

...I’ll see you in a little while

It won’t be too long, now

We’ll see it on the other side,

The wait was only the blink of an eye

So I’m not going to say goodbye,

Cause I’ll see you in a little while...

Maybe you’ll teach me all the songs they sing in heaven

Maybe you’ll show me how you can fly

And I’ll hear you laugh again

And we won’t remember when

We were not together and this time it’s forever…

I’ll see you in a little while. Love you Mom!