I am sorry to say I am just finding out about this sad news now.

Ms. Kutt was my homeroom teacher at Lawrence School.

I miss you, Phyllis, especially when I hear the beat of drums. I expect you to be turning up soon to sit across or next to me in a drum circle at Omega.

Your presence is here, however, at Tale of the Hawk Farm.  Last year two eagles landed in a pine tree across from Omega's beach but on our farm.  We named the female after you and the male after another friend who died in February. So these two bald eagles, Phyllis & Phil, built a nest together in 2012 and stayed awhile and then flew away.

But,...this year in January 2013 they returned.  Their white heads and tails were whiter because they were 5 years old now and mature. We watched them add on to the previous year's nest, making it bigger.  Then, Phyllis sat and sat and sat very patiently while Phil flew in and brought meals.  On Easter Sunday, March 31st, 2013 she had a boy and a girl eaglet.  We visited the nest almost every day. Now, the eaglets are larger than their parents and can fly and hunt on their own,  but Phyllis is still watching over them and us. 

Strange to think that Phyllis has been elsewhere for a year. I wonder where. But I'm sure that if it is a place at all, it is now more fun and warmer since she has been there. I so remember her laugh. And her kindness. And how very attractive she was. So, if there is a place somewhere where now she finds herself and if there are others around her, I have only one thing to say to them: You're lucky to have her, as we are sad that we don't.

It was the blizzard of '78. We had just moved from Europe. The street was covered two car heights in snow. My children Learka and David met Holly and Chad and burrowed themselves to the kitchen where Phyllis received them with the delicious warmth that was her trademark. So many cups of tea in that kitchen. Meetings with creative people from all over. Phyllis was all heart and made us feel welcome in Cambridge. Even in the Great Blizzard she warmed Kelly Road. We shared many dreams. An unforgettable woman of pure gold. What an unspeakable loss, felt deeply from the distance of time and of place. We have a Jewish word for someone like Phyllis: she was a mensch.

Phyllis and I met in the summer of 1977. She was a young vibrant woman, full of life. The first quality I noticed about her, other than her classical beauty, was her intelligence. After talking to me in the prison visiting room for a couple hours, she declared that she "hated me." It was so funny. We got on the topic of literature, and when she mentioned a particular author, I would say that I had read "everything she/he had ever written." She "hated" me because of the time I had to do all this reading. I suggested to her that if she too would like to be so well read, then perhaps she might consider robbing a bank and going to prison herself. She rejected that suggestion out of hand, and we had a wonderful laugh.

Phyllis visited me in prison off and on for the next 38 years. When Holly and Chad were children of about five or six, she brought them in to meet me and I fell in love. These were the precious gifts that mothers only share with those they trust beyond measure. I was so honored and enamoured with these children. I doubt I could convey how cute they were. Today, the "cute" word might make them cringe.

I loved Phyllis. Then, who among us that met her dld not? It was just so easy and comfortable. She brought such joy into my drab prison world, and I have so many blessed snapshot memories of her that I will treasure forever.

I bow to the place she was, and I bow to the memories. Namaste.

Joe Labriola
Sgt. USMC (ret.)

We at WriteBoston knew Phyllis for a short time - but, oh, how special that time was!  Jake Murray connected me to Phyllis and we bonded immediately, as I believe Phyllis did with many, many others.  She was a writing coach with expertise, but also she had a passion for teenagers and a warmth that radiated to the teachers she supported. 

She started in September and that November she found the lump that led to her stepping back from her work and devoting her time to taking care of her body.  Through the subsequent years she and I exchanged emails and updates, and her zest for life continued to be a part of her.  Capturing the moment, sharing stories of her children and grandchildren, she continued to enjoy each moment - and was grateful for everyone around her.  A positive sprit to the end.

She is a role model for many of us.  She pursued life's moments with energy, dealt with her challenges with dignity, and always knew what was important in life.  She is missed - and cherished and remembered forever.

Betty J. Southwick 

There are many memories I have of Phyllis with my deep gratitude for her presence in my life over the years.  I first met her when I came to work at the Lawrence School in Brookline during a time when I was feeling pretty disiullusioned about teaching.  Phyllis was among a small group of colleagues whom I came to know at that time who really made my time in teaching there fun, inspiring, and worthwhile.  It was great to work beside others who were so committed to the students and to education and that really helped lift me up.  I remember visiting Phyllis's room one day and she was in the process of teaching the 8th graders how to meditate.  We also helped chaperone a hiking trip to a mountain in NH and that was quite an experience.  I recall too that a number of the students did a walkout for peace at the time the Gulf War started and several folks wanted to 'blame' it on us as they knew we were opposed to the war. 
For me, it was a personally challening time and Phyllis helped me find my inner strength and also helped me find my way to great healing with her accupuncturist, David and to taking Superbluegreen algae! 

It was during that time that I broke a tooth, and knowing that her husband was a dentist, I left an urgent message on their phone machine one night, looking for help.  About 11pm, my phone rings and it was Loren, and I remember him saying to me, "Hi, this is Loren, Phyllis's husband...and I may not be able to fix the tooth right away, but I can get you out of pain.  Come in tomorrow at noon and I'll take care of it."....and so that began my friendship with Loren too, who later helped me pick out a great bike when I wanted to upgrade and take up cycling more seriously. 

I remember dinners at their home and always great conversations about politics and spirituality and art and poetry and opera and life!  Over the years, we did an overnight in Maine and down in Ptown with our friend Caroline and visits to the Cape house.  I remember going with Phyllis to the beach to collect rocks for her art project at the time.  Always, always, I felt valued, affirmed, listened to, and treated with kindness and care.  In recent years, we would trade cards and emails...I will miss her gentle face, her eyes, that wonderful scent she used to wear, her passion, her humor, her presence in the world.  I am so grateful to have been part of her large circle of friends and oh, I only wish there had been more time.    There is no doubt that she made the absolute most of her years here, but she is unrepeatable, irreplaceable, and as much as I know that her love and light will shine on in all those who knew her, I will still miss her light, her voice, her unique way of seeing the world. 

We were next door neighbors for 30 years. We reached so many milestones over the years, birthdays, graduations, adoptions, weddings, more graduations, more birthdays, lots of cats and dogs, the death of parents, and cancer.

You were so positive when we spoke about Russ and his cancer treatment. In the middle of your treatments, yet so concerned about him and how to help make the road a little easier for us. And the hugs.....lots and lots and lots of hugs over the years. I will miss them.

You, Loren, Chad and Holly passing your friends on to 14-16 Kelly when 10-12 was overflowing. It was wonderful to see so many of them last Sunday, grown with families of their own.

It is a fitting tribute to your vibrant soul and spirit that you are leaving such a beautiful legacy through Loren, Chad, Holly, Edna, Alex and Isabella. So long friend and neighbor! Till we meet again.

No Separation                                                                                                       

               Despite the blizzard, I decide to pack up the boys (Luc and Worf) and drive to Wellfleet.  Not smart, but the need to be in my solitude place is greater than any sense of danger.  I am called to be there and that is it.

                After some pretty hairy adventures on the way down, we arrive in one piece several hours later with enough time to get out for a good walk before dark.  After quickly unloading the car, I dig out my sorrels, bundle myself and leash up the boys to cross the ever-treacherous Route 6.  We set out for the Atlantic Ocean.

                We forge through the Wellfleet Woods housing development on the ocean side of 6 and enter the magical kingdom of the National Seashore Forest.  The snow is unrelenting, fierce; at times I can not see but a few feet in front of my nose.  I follow the exuberant dogs, leaping through the quickly drifting snow like deer.

                It takes better than an hour to reach Gull Pond, half way to the sea.  We pause to look out.  The snow is a massive whitewater river flooding the sky, rapidly consuming the pond in its horizontal drive north.  I half expect to see white-winged wind rafts navigating the rapids.

                We feel our way now, step by step down to the pond’s edge.  We nuzzle the curve of the pond and disappear back into the woods.  Trusting the dogs who know the route, we slog through the woods, discover the isthmus, cross it, and enter the sea path by blind faith.

                Now the ROAR!  Wind, sea, ice, snow, howl, howl, howl.  Follow the sound, follow the dogs.  We crest the dune and OH!  Majestic dissonance of the sea.  Wild Spectacle!  I offer face, hands, heart to the earth, sky, wind, sea.  Alone, alive, surrender!

                                                                                              P. Kutt

A young naïve teenager passed through the doors at 10 Kelly Road in 1987, ignorant to the world, ignorant to his own potential.  Not knowing at the time that this would lead to a lifelong relationship with a very special being – Phyllis Kutt.  The person who changed my life forever!

This relationship was only made possible when I met Holly on a skiing trip while we were at Cambridge Rindge and Latin High School. Although Holly and I drifted apart and followed different paths, Phyllis remained a close friend.

As with Siddhartha Gautama, I too have lived two completely different lives, and am possibly embarking on a third as I write. I can say this only because of Phyllis.  It is with her persistent and relentless encouragement, love, and support that I took the biggest challenge of my life – I enrolled into a university.  If it was not for her constant inquisitions about my future, her genuine care and concern, I would not have accomplished what I have in my life.  This I know to be unequivocally true!

I sit in my home in South Korea, overlooking low lying mountains and a north branch of the Han River, just 10 kilometers from the confluence of the northern and southern branches.  Although the mountains look barren and desolate, the evergreens and the white patches of snow reveal a different picture if one just takes the time to look.  This is what Phyllis showed me – take the time to look, to enjoy, to feel, to wonder, to learn.

I am a better human being because of Phyllis.  She was, and will always be, my mentor, my spirit, my guide in life, and my friend.

I love you Phyllis.  I can only hope to live my life, share my life, share my love, as you shared yours with all those around you.

“Never think of yourself

As a person who didn’t count –

Festival of the Souls”

-Matsuo Basho’s poem on the death of his friend, Jutei, in July 1964, near the time of the Japanese All Soul’s Day. From the book “Bring me the rhinoceros: and other zen koans that will save your life”.  A book Phyllis gave to me when we last met in the coffee shop at the Central Square Co-op Market on February 13, 2011.

When I was 8 years-old, I was transferred into a new school in Cambridge.  A scared and snot-nosed boy, that first day I sat next to a blue-eyed, dirty blond kid named Chad.  Chad was like no one I had every met: kind, smart, endlessly creative, already equipped with an impressive vocabulary. We quickly became fast friends and remain so to this day. 

It be came clear to me why Chad was who he was the first time I went over to his apartment at 12 Kelly Rd and met Phyllis.  She too was kind, smart, endlessly creative -- and those words!  She also was the first single-mom I had ever really known, and I credit her with a lasting image of single-moms -- that while faced with many challenges, single-moms are powerful and brilliant. 

As my relationship with Chad continued, Phyllis took on many roles for me --college, career, and life counselor  -- and, of course, editor.  There was always an underlying message with Phyllis: that it is important to take risks -- not reckless risks, but thoughtful risks. 

When Phyllis met Loren, I gained another true friend and mentor.  We bonded instantly - it was as if I had known him all my life.  And as a team, he and Phyllis patiently supported Chad, myself and a younger generation of friends as we navigated young adulthood.     

So I say good bye to Phyllis with profound thanks -- for a wonderful son who is my oldest and a deeply cherished friend, for Loren, who remains a key touchpoint in my life -- and for pushing me to take those thoughtful risks.     


Love always,
Jake      

As a poet wrote, “Gone from our sight, but never our memories – Gone from our touch, but never our hearts.” I know this is how everyone feels about Phyllis.

In a prominent spot in Loren and Phyllis’ house that I frequented quite often hung two signs that always reminded me of Phyllis’ spirit and journey in this life. They were “choose joy” and “imagine.”

Phyllis chose joy daily throughout her life and especially during her devastating illness in the last years of her life. She chose joy because she understood how short and precious are our lives. She spread that joy and love to everyone that came into her circle. She lived the slogan posted in her office, “Never let yesterday get in the way of today.” This enabled her to choose joy and cherish the present moments surrounded with the love of friends and family.

“Imagine” was part of Phyllis’ worldly outlook. She embraced it in her daily life. Just look at the back of her car and you knew how Phyllis felt about the issues of our times.  Imagine a world at peace by teaching peace; imagine a caring and sharing world; imagine a compassionate and just world.  All who came in contact with Phyllis knew that she would not hesitate speaking her truth and what she imagined.

I’ll miss Phyllis. I treasured our friendship She was a gift to the world, as well as her friends, family, and Loren.

“Gone from our sight, but never our memories – Gone from our touch, but never our hearts.”

    Phyllis was my teacher at Fayerweather.  She was a great friend to me and my mother.  She always knew when I needed extra love, and knew exactly how to show that love to me.  Even though I was only her student for a few years, she changed the way I saw life. She is one of the women in my life that gives me strength and encouragement to pursue my dreams.  Her independence in life and thinking and her appreciation for beautiful things in this world amazed me. Thanks so much for everything you gave to me Phyllis!

Today I stumbled on an old box in my house and inside was my year-end assignment from my junior year at Hudson High School (2001). The class was AP American Studies, a year long class with Ms. Kutt and Mr. Daniels...the dynamic duo. It was no easy class for me, especially the portion Phyllis taught. And despite the red marks in the margins of all my papers I was wild about Ms. Kutt. She challenged me to be a better student and a better person.

In my final assigment (where I was able to be a bit more casual) I wrote, "I can't thank you enough for what you have done. I've heard people say that if a teacher changes the life of one student then he/she have done their job. Well, Ms. Kutt, you have surpassed this with a flying leap. You gave me faith in my writing and myself. I may have cursed the novels you put in the margins of my papers, but in the end I want you to know that it helped...You have provided me with the knowledge and skills to write a great essay. It isn't only the essays though; you have shown me the world in a new light. You love to teach and it is present in your daily activities. It is a quality that more teachers should strive to possess...The personal advice you have given and our Germany adventure will always be in my heart."
Phyllis was so much more than a teacher, she was a mentor and friend.

I also had the pleasure of traveling to Germany with Ms. Kutt. I can only imagine the stories she came home with. She had the patience to chaperone a group of wild high school students while in another country...yikes!

To Phyllis Kutt, an incredible woman. 
Adriana (Talatinian) Fudala
Hudson High School class of 2002

On October 13,1957 I was introduced as the new teacher to the 5th grade class at West Brookfield Elementary School--with an AB in Fine Arts, Harvard, one year certificate from the Boston Museum School  and two years in the US Army---no education or training in teaching. 
     Phyllis was one of about 35 children in that class.  At the end of that year the test results came in and showed a 3 1/2 year average growth in Spelling--it is  a long story--I always loved Spelling--one of you (above) states that Phyllis was "a spelling nut"--interesting!!  Phyllis went to the Museum School---interesting.    
     There were other items in other "stories" above which hit home---I spent two school years in the same classroom with Phyllis--all day long---I think I knew her well---she was a unique person---different, individual, standing-out from all others and independent, fully in charge of her persona to a degree rare for one of her age. I never hesitated to call on her to do something special for the good of the class---she never hesitated to do it and do it to a T..
     That same test report showed only an 8 month average growth in reading achievement for that year.  Although I had already signed a contract with Tantasqua Regional to be Asst. Art Director forthe following year, my conscience dictated that I had to go back and make up to those children for my failure to do the most important job in giving them a year's growth in reading. I requested and was given the same class for another year--I took  the courses I needed that Summer and designed a program intended to address the needs of a class ranging from first to tenth grade in reading skill--normal, I was told, for a typical sixth grade class In American Schools.
     Phyllis Kutt, along with Jonathan Ploof and Gustin Potter were to be my assistants in breaking the class (numbering from 33-42 during that year) into 5 groups using 5 different levels of books, and trying to raise their skills a year or more if possible.----that too is a long story.  At the end of that 6th grade year the test results showed an average growth in reading skills of I 1/2 years----We--Phyllis, Jon and Gustin--had succeeded---most importantly, some nonreaders could now read----Phyllis had a lot to do with that.
     I left the teaching profession after 23 years of frustration with the "system"--as a Superintendent unable to deliver the results that children need to enjoy the fullest realization of their promise in life.  The high point of my career was that class in West Brookfield and the children I worked with, especially, Phyllis Kutt who worked with me, hand-in-glove, to, not only excel as a student in her learning, but to do so while devoting much of her time in class helping classmates normally left by the wayside because of years of neglect.
     Phyllis was also drafted into duty as my partner, demonstrating the steps in an after school ballroom dancing class I set up in the gym ( at least 50 6th,7th and 8th graders)---.She never hesitated one instant to take on whatever task was set before her that might help others in any way.  I am profoundly sorry that I was never able to thank Phyllis for all that she gave to all of us during those two years--in a, face to face,  meeting with her as an adult and as a very successful educator.
     I am glad that a few years ago upon reading of one,  Phyllis Kutt,  being hired to an administrative position in a Boston (I think Brookline) area school system I was able to express, in a letter to her,  my congratulations for that  as well as my appreciation for her help many years ago and the highest esteem in which I have held her ever since.  It was a shock this morning to see Phyllis' name in the obituaries and I am still, at the end of this day, deeply disturbed that Phyllis is gone  May the Good Lord bless her and the family she has raised and imbued with the same unquenchable spirit of giving which filled her whole person thoughout her life.   george vlahos

It was Cambridge in the early 80's and as I look back maybe it was expected, but for me the fact that this tall,beautiful white woman was showing me so much kindness and love was somewhat unbelievable and difficult to understand. 

If I close my eyes I still remember the warmth of Holly and Chad's home. To me it always smelled of freshly made chocolate chip cookies, pumkin pie and apple cider.  How Phyllis welcomed this little Puerto Rican girl who knew no English, in to her home was completely natural to her. 

I like to think that knowing me at 7 yrs old and being one of the first people to befriend me, somehow played a role in Holly's later passion(s) in Latin America and the Caribbean.  Yet our friendship wouldn't of been possible if it hadn't been for the openess and Maitreya (Sanskrit for loving-kindness) of Phyllis Kutt.

Thank you isn't enough.

Kenia

I first met Phyllis when she came to Praia to visit Chad in the Peace Corps.  I remember that although she didn’t speak Kriolu she could always communicate with her spirit.  Her vibrant energy and passion for life enveloped those around her, then and until the end of her life.  Over many years I have benefited from her wise counsel, great humor and so deeply from the family she welcomed me into.  I see P in all of them, Lo the life partner and kindred spirit, Holly’s passion and instinct to care for others, and Chad’s curiosity and willingness to take unexpected paths.  But most keenly now, I see P in Belle and Aléx, who she helped shape with untold hours of grandmotherly love and teaching.  The image of Belle and Aléx reading books to P in those final days, books that she had so carefully chosen for them, complete a circle of love.  We will miss Phyllis dearly and continue, gratefully, to see her all around us.   

Tony, Christine, Josiah, and Jacira

Cheerleader: a person who leads others in cheering for a team, as at a football game; a person who enthusiastically promotes or supports a cause.

As I thought back on Phyllis' life, I realized my first recollection of Phyllis (50 yrs ago) was as an enthusiastic, beautiful, long-legged, happy and loud cheerleader at a WHS football game. She caught my attention immediately! Who would know she would carry on this "job" for her entire life enthusiastically cheering on her husband, children, grandchildren, family, friends, students and even strangers.

Phyllis accomplished so much in her interesting life and her legacy to each of us will be to live each day to the fullest, reach for the stars and support and love one another.

Thank you Phyllis for welcoming all of the Wagners to your family. Thank you for the love, support and hope you recently gave to Charlie and me. We will carry on with your spirit and courage.

You are all in our thoughts and prayers.

Phyllis was wise and very strong indeed as she instructed me when I began my similar journey. She will continue to keep me in good stead, I have no doubt. My heart goes out to her family.

Phyllis named our Tuesday morning watercolor class The Salon after the art salons in Paris at the turn of the last century.  We would talk about everything in class; children, grandchildren, books, movies, politics, travels, losing weight, health, and a little art.  We brought in food to share and brought little presents back for each other from trips.  And we supported each other through our struggles with our paintings.  Phyllis’ paintings were always about something she deeply loved; the beach near her Cape house, the funny footprint of her lame dog showing how he used one leg to support the other, a pencil drawing done in bed one morning of her husband’s sleeping body, a seashell on the porch rail of the house where she stayed with friends in Panama, landscapes of the Southwest.  I remember one of her first paintings at the studio was from a photograph of Alex.  She struggled to get the face in the painting to look like Alex.  She’d agonize “it still doesn’t look like him” and we’d offer suggestions: the eyes are too wide, the eyebrow is too arched, the hair comes down more on the side.  This went on for weeks.  Finally, it looked like the photograph, recognizable as Alex, and she pronounced it finished and proudly took it home.  Next week she told us what happened when she showed it to Alex.  He said, ‘Grammy, that doesn’t look like me”.

Phyllis would bring in artwork done by Alex and Isabelle to show us and she brought the children to class more than once.  And Vovo came once.  They all painted with us.  One time when they were visiting Alex became fascinated by my attempts to bring life to a painting I was doing of fire.  He asked if he could paint on it so he sat beside me and we both painted on it.  I still have the painting.

Phyllis told us the story of how she had gotten each of the children their own paint sets.  She was trying to teach them to wash the brush in between each color so you don’t mix the colors and make them muddy.  Isabelle kept mixing them.  Phyllis told her “No, you have to wash the brush off each time or your paints will all be black”.  Isabelle looked at her defiantly and said “I like black!” 

 When my first grandchild was born I brought pictures to class and gushed “Isn’t that the most beautiful baby you have ever seen?”  Phyllis said “No.  MY grandchildren are the most beautiful babies in the world.”  Other than that she let me gush pretty much.

One time when I returned from a trip I found Phyllis had orchestrated the studio to produce a “Patricia the Renovator” poster.  One of our Northeastern interns had a friend who has studying graphic arts and she combined my photo and with Rosie the Riveter.  Phyllis put them every place in the studio that my husband and I had renovated: the bathroom, the kitchen, the basement.  I took one home for my keepsakes box.

The last painting I remember Phyllis doing in class was a hydrangea plant in a pot which she was doing to give to one of her healthcare providers.  She did a beautiful job and we all waited to hear how the person liked her gift.  The next week Phyllis was proud to report that the person had it displayed in her office.

Phyllis would always let us know when scans were coming up.  We’d be right with her praying and waiting for the results.  Then she’d send us an email with the results, we’d breathe a sigh of relief, give her an extra hug the next Tuesday and go on with the next painting like it would be this way forever.

Dear Holly and Loren and family,
Your words so beautifully capture Phyllis’ spirit, in all its life-affirming fullness. I met her as an artist, more than 30 years ago, when she wrote poetry with Denise Levertov. Twenty years later, I came to know her as someone deeply skilled in the art of meditation. But as you and your family know better than any of us, above all, she was a woman who gloriously practiced and exemplified the art of living. Even in the rooms where she received chemotherapy, I watched, amazed, as she brought warmth and laughter to every person she encountered, from the receptionist to the other patients to the medical team. 

I was inspired to witness Phyllis’ passionate engagement with the world. And it was her devotion to her beloved family that was and remains her most inspired teaching. Even during this time of great loss for all of you, I hope that her love, and your love of one another, and of your wide circle of friends, brings comfort.

Much love,
Laura

Here is the song I wrote for Phyllis for her 6oth birthday.  It expresses the main lesson she taught me - that I have always tried to live by.   -Andy Kutt

Fly In Your Own Direction

   Words and Music   Andrew Kutt 2007

When I was just a little boy

Trying to find my way in this life

So insecure and confused

So many feelings inside

Not really sure who I was

Or what I could be

Then with such gentleness and warmth

Came the words you said to me

Fly in your own direction

No matter how the winds do blow

Each journey is a lesson

Whose destination you can’t know

Don’t want to look back wondering

Why you never tried to spread your wings

It’s time that you discovered

Your own amazing song to sing

Out on a highway heading west

I was only eighteen

So many doubts in my head

I can’t be dreaming big boy dreams

I got no business leaving here

I won’t make it on my own

I will lose all that I hold dear

Then you called me on the phone

Fly in your own direction

No matter how the winds do blow

Each journey is a lesson

Whose destination you can’t know

Don’t want to look back wondering

Why you never tried to spread your wings

It’s time that you discovered

Your own amazing song to sing

 Oooh oooh your own amazing song to sing

Now when I look into your eyes

I see the distance I have come

I see all my horizons

I see my own rising sun

And as you start off on this journey

Toward the next stage of your life

Though I am not really worthy

Let me give you this advice

Fly in your own direction

No matter how the winds do blow

Each journey is a lesson

Whose destination you can’t know

Don’t want to look back wondering

Why you never tried to spread your wings

It’s time that you discovered

Your own amazing song to sing

Oooh oooh your own amazing song to sing

Oooh oooh your own amazing song to sing

The following letter was written by Andrew Kutt, brother of Phyllis,  to the Oneness-Family School Community on Feb. 1, 2012.

Dear OFS Community: 

 As some of you know, my sister Phyllis passed away Monday evening at the age of 64 after a long battle with breast cancer. Phyllis was a life long educator, a great artist, a practitioner of meditation, an advocate for health and the environment, a mother of two wonderful children – Chad and Holly - and two extraordinary grandchildren – Alex and Isabelle, and a wife of 26 years to an amazing, devoted husband and partner Loren.

Since I was a young boy Phyllis was a mentor to me in many ways – encouraging me to plant my first garden, to pursue my interest in music, to go to Outward Bound in the Cascade Mountains, to become a college student at Assumption College, to spend my junior year abroad in France, and to practice meditation and yoga.  She supported and guided every key decision in my life – personal and professional.  When I decided I wanted to take the bold step to begin the adventure of the Oneness-Family School, Phyllis was 100% behind me, and she and her husband Loren maintained a steadfast commitment to the school through generous donations, educational and business advice, as well as many occasions of moral and spiritual support.

Phyllis was my rock, my source of inspiration, my shoulder to cry on when times were tough and my reservoir of humor and creative solutions. Of all the seven children in our family, she was the one always speaking her truth and encouraging us to do the same.  She lived life to the very fullest every day – and never wasted precious time living with regret, bitterness or acrimony – despite the many challenges she faced throughout her life.  Her energy to celebrate life was tireless –and she was often ready to carry on to the next fun thing even when the rest of us were exhausted.

Our lives will not be the same without her physical presence on the planet, but I know Phyllis will continue to guide us and support us from where she is now.  Her spirit will especially live here at the Oneness-Family School, where years ago she taught summer Shakespeare theater classes and where she loved to visit whenever she could.  Phyllis always wanted frequent and detailed updates on how the school was progressing, often remembering faculty, staff, and students and parents by name. As I continue my life’s mission at OFS, her spirit will be at my side always.

I wanted to say thank you to all faculty, staff, parents  and students who have reached out to my family and me with your prayers and loving messages.  They have been extremely healing and uplifting during this time.  I will no doubt continue to need your support in the coming days and weeks, having lost a dear sibling and a most loving friend.

-Andrew Kutt

Head of School

Andrew@onenessfamily.org

Phyllis Kutt

2012 is not the end of our friendship.  Phyllis' paintings, her cards, her words, her joy will be a part of us all forever.

Phyllis and I met in the first few days of her metastatic diagnosis.  We drove to Insight Meditation Society in Barre Ma together and instantly bonded.  It was as if we had know each other forever.  We had had seemingly the same type of cancer but mine has never metastasized.  Anyway after talking non stop in the car we then continued to know each other in the silence of  several 7 day meditation retreats and classes with Larry at Cambridge Insight and retreats there.  She and Loren are regulars at Larry's classes for years.  I am a relative new comer.

Our times at Barre were so precious.  Even though everything was in silence we communicated with each other and did sneak talking.  The first retreat we met every moring in the salvation dharma room where Phyllis was in charge and I learned of her love of thrift shops.  We commiserated about some of the hard times we were having on the retreat we laughed we cried she told me about how much she loved her family.  Once meeting each other by chance in a hallway whispering and hearing someone coming ducked into a closet continueing our chat doubled over with nearly silent  laughter in 102degree heat.   We also danced on the front lawn hoping nobody saw us.  I could go on and on about our precious time together and it always felt precious because from the moment we met I and she knew she would be probablly leaving sooner which turned out to be true. 

She had such a connection to spirit and belief in continuation. 

One more thing she was a spelling nut and I hope this thing has spell check on it.   Rest in Peace and continue to shine Dear Dharma Sis P  Love Your, B

I am so deeply grateful to have known you, sweet Phyllis.  Some of your great gifts included boundless love, intense compassion, limitless creativity, and immense generosity of spirit.   Cooking and baking for you and Loren for a while brought a token of appreciation each time I brought goodies across the street.  As many times as I objected, you never stopped giving me beautiful and thoughtful things back.  On one occasion you brought me over fresh figs.  I was so inspired that day, I sat down and painted one of my very best "works of art".  I called it, "Five fresh figs from my friend, Phyllis".  I loved that painting and so did you!  Several weeks later I gave it to you.  I'm so happy I did.   You were a "superior human being" and I loved you.  Pam
p.s. If you run into my beloved husband, Jim, up there in heaven, give him my love.  

My dear, dear friend Phyllis left us last night. She was a person so filled with light and life and love. She lived with purposefulness; she loved her family and her friends. I spent the last seven days with her, her husband, her daughter, her son and daughter-in-law and grandkids, her special brothers, and a small group of very close friends. We laughed and cried and cried some more – happy to be together, sad at the terrible circumstances and honored to be with her as she prepared for her journey. She left peacefully and is now on her way. I will miss you, my Sweet P.

"Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

The Prophet
Kahlil Gibran

I am supposed to be packing

for the trip I am not taking

with Phyllis this time.

I am pressed

for time. But I stop

at her house for coffee,

just for half an hour,

because the tumors

are growing again.

Phone calls interrupt.

My limbs are ticking

with caffeine

and time moving

She is not in a hurry.

Just for fifteen minutes

we sit in her yard

on green plastic chairs.

Our words float

in summer air.

I am content to watch

her face in sunlight.

A door opens.

We’re just here.

For this moment.

This one.

This one.

This.

One. 

                             August 2011