Orvalene Prewitt

On September 23, 2025, at 11:11 a.m., Orvalene “Orvie” Prewitt, 73, passed from this life at her home in Kansas City, Kansas, to her eternal home while her beloved daughter, Shauna Prewitt, held her hand. For months prior to her passing, she had bravely battled an aggressive cancer, enduring treatments even as her body grew weaker from the side effects. She desperately wanted to continue living and did not submit quietly to death, pleading in her final days that she did not want to leave “her girls” – a reference to Shauna and to her beloved and only grandchild, Isabella “Bella” Prewitt. Orvie wanted to continue living her big, beautiful life, and all who knew her mourn that it physically ended far too soon. But Orvie’s life is not defined by the cancer that robbed her of her vitality. Instead, she will always be remembered as a woman who loved and who was loved. And although she no longer physically lives, her enduring spirit and love will continue to shine through all who hold her dear.

Orvie was born in August 1952 in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, to Orval and Lela Burris. As an “army brat,” she moved frequently as a child, changing schools multiple times over the years. Despite the frequent moves (or perhaps because of them), she was affable. She had a knack for making an impression in a short period of time and creating enduring friendships. Indeed, in her final days, she spent time with one of her dearest friends – a woman she knew from the seventh and eighth grades. To her family, this was not unusual. She loved easily and warmly, and she put in the effort and time needed for others to feel special and heard. It also is no surprise to those who knew her that she retained many of the high school friends that she met in Pleasant Hill, Missouri.

Although she never went to college, Orvie achieved professional successes that far outpaced her more educated peers. She was sharp and innovative. When her husband, Ronald “Ron” Prewitt, was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome in the late 1980s and she found health resources and support lacking, she co-founded and launched the non-profit National Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia Association, which she ran – without compensation – for many years, first from an office in her home and then later from an office building in the Kansas City, Missouri area. In that role, she was instrumental in creating community support groups for people suffering from those illnesses; building a bridge of understanding between the medical and lay communities; educating legislators about those diseases and lobbying for research funding; authoring brochures and other educational materials; and, most importantly to her, bringing recognition and a voice to the patients debilitated by those diseases. Her work with the Association was recognized innumerable times over the years, including on the national and international levels. Indeed, she traveled to Rome, Italy as part of her work, and even was appointed to a committee at the National Institutes of Health in Washington, D.C., where she gave a voice to the voiceless while serving for many years on the National Advisory Allergy and Infectious Disease Counsel, which was then under the direction of Dr. Anthony Fauci.

Later, she would spend approximately 20 years working in the St. Luke’s Health System in Kansas City, Missouri, many of which she spent running the Regional Arthritis Center, a position which – prior to her hiring – had only been held by college graduates. In her role, she was responsible for promoting and delivering evidence-based programs for individuals dealing with chronic disease in 10 Missouri counties. Her happiest professional days were spent teaching patients as a certified leader. In that role, she taught patients how to manage their pain and to advocate for themselves in a healthcare system that too often loses focus on the patient. She was known for her “swag bags,” which were carefully cultivated gift bags that she gave as incentives to those she taught. She spent hours traveling from shop to shop finding unique items for the swag bags and always brought tasty treats for her class participants. Many of the treats were handmade from recipes she “modified,” which – in Orvie lingo – meant completely changed. (She was the best cook and baker.) She also extended her reach in the community by becoming a certified master trainer. In that role, she taught future leaders how to lead. She guided them to lead multiple chronic disease self-management programs, all of which had been developed at Stanford University. She was commended innumerable times for her work – the true number of which is only known to her. She did not brag or boast about these achievements. She did not measure her successes by such awards. Instead, her successes were measured by the people she helped. Their wins were her wins, and she celebrated the achievements of others with a big smile and a pure heart.

In January 2024, she joined Welcome Wellness, a non-profit organization that specializes in health education. As the “Manager of Strategy and Innovation,” Orvie continued her work of empowering individuals and communities with the knowledge and resources they needed to make informed decisions about their health and well-being. As her job title suggests, she was a force to be reckoned with. Indeed, when she was hired, a long-time community health partner asked Orvie’s boss, “How did you get Orvie?” As a manager, she had a way of leading without offending. When her colleagues sent her drafts for her to markup, she would respond with edits, remarking, “A few comments for your consideration.” Far from a few comments, the draft would be entirely – but thoughtfully – rewritten. Orvie took great joy in cultivating friendships with her colleagues. Indeed, her final weeks were spent crocheting a gift for a colleague who had recently had a baby and carefully picking-out children’s books for the grandchild of another colleague and dear friend. Each of her colleagues visited her in her final days, a testament to the respect and love they hold for her. Orvie continued to work for Welcome Wellness as long as her body permitted. It was not because she needed the salary but because she loved her job. Indeed, as she approached her final days, she often lamented that she had so many more people she wanted to help and so many more ideas she wanted to explore. Her work fulfilled her, and she hoped that others loved their jobs as much as she did. In the days since her passing, many people have shared with Orvie's family members the legacy Orvie created in health education and the setback in community health initiatives occasioned by her death. Although she leaves much work to be done, her family trusts that her example will have provided a clear guidepost to others in how to lead.

Given her love for her job and the successes she had, one might assume that Orvie's work defined her. It did not. Orvie’s greatest joy and achievement in life was her family. She was a loving and faithful wife of nearly 45 years to her husband Ron, aged 81, whom she leaves behind. In 2020, when Ron suffered the first of what would become several strokes over the years, she became his caregiver. During his many hospitalizations over the next five years, Orvie would visit him every day, often staying at his hospital bedside from early in the morning until late in the evening. She took copious notes documenting each of his symptoms and the comments made by his doctors. She studied his lab results and physician progress notes, printing each one and memorizing the information in order to ensure that each specialist he saw received the most up-to-date information she could provide. (The printouts and her notes fill several plastic tubs, all carefully filed away at their home.) When she cared for Ron at home, Orvie’s days revolved around administering his medications, helping him stand, and fixing his favorite meals. It was taxing and intimate work, but she devoted herself to it. During those years, she often sacrificed traveling, exploring, and seeing her girls, but she never stopped showering them with her love. She faithfully sent care packages full of decorations and goodies on holidays, including Halloween and Valentine's Day; called and texted frequently, often sending links to movies, stores, or events she thought they’d enjoy; showered them with Kansas City Chiefs swag; and relished when they would come to visit. Indeed, even when she was so sick this past July, she nevertheless remembered to wish her daughter Shauna a “Happy ½ Birthday.” Truth be told, at 43 ½, Shauna was fine to stop celebrating half-birthdays. But Orvie was not. She never wanted to stop celebrating with her family. She was full of light and love.

It goes without saying that Orvie was the best mother and grandmother. Most conversations Orvie had with colleagues or even strangers inevitably resulted in a detailed conversation about her girls and how proud she was of them. They are equally proud of her and so grateful for her leadership and guidance. Orvie forgave quickly, and she never withheld her love. Even when hurt or upset, she would always initiate and say, “I love you.” Unsurprisingly, her last words were of her love for her girls.

As a mother, Orvie was always present. When Shauna was young, she volunteered to dress-up as “Scrubby Bear” to teach children in her daughter’s school about handwashing; educated herself on artwork so that she could share paintings with her daughter’s class; volunteered for every field trip; cheered at every basketball and volleyball game; and spent most weekends of Shauna’s high school years at one debate tournament or another. During those weekends, she faithfully ensured that all the students were fed and loved watching her daughter’s debates. To the other debate students at Shauna’s school, she was known as “Squad Mom.” To Shauna’s competitors, rumors swirled that Orvie watched each of her daughter’s debates in order to telepathically signal to Shauna what arguments to make. The truth is far simpler. Orvie was not telepathic. She was there because her heart swirled at seeing her daughter in action. Indeed, when Shauna grew older and became a federal prosecutor, Orvie continued to support her by traveling to San Diego to watch many of Shauna’s criminal trials. Shauna will spend the rest of her career looking for and missing her mother’s face in the courtroom gallery. Orvie was the best listener and Shauna's biggest champion. Quite simply, she was Shauna’s best friend. Although Shauna and Orvie often lived in separate states, they spoke multiple times each day. Those calls were the best parts of both of their days. Orvie also frequently texted her granddaughter, reminding her that she was loved and missed. The absence of those calls and texts has created a hole that Shauna and Bella can only hope will become easier to live with in time.

As a “Nana,” she was the type of grandmother who delighted in creating magical memories. She hid Easter eggs every Easter, even when Bella was in high school, carefully creating clues for Bella to follow during the hunt; she decorated for each of Bella’s birthdays, often staying up late at night or waking up early in the morning to decorate while her granddaughter slept; she never said no a board game or cards, even when she was tired; she was always up for an escape room; and, she taught Bella to craft and to crochet. Even when she was so sick this past Christmas, Orvie helped Bella crochet a gift for Bella’s boyfriend; carefully and beautifully decorated for the holiday; and insisted on cooking a full Christmas meal for her family. And, when Bella expressed an interest in a popular product from Bath and Body Works, Orvie dragged the entire family from store to store during the holiday bustle to find it for Bella.

No one asked Orvie to do these things. Orvie did them because she loved spoiling those she loved. She rarely missed a birthday, flying wherever it took to be with her girls and to celebrate them. Bella was privileged to spend many summers with her grandparents in Kansas City, Missouri. Orvie lived for those weeks with Bella, spending time at the pool, finding classes or camps that her granddaughter would enjoy, doing crafts together, shopping, watching scary movies chosen by Bella (Orvie would often hide her head under a blanket), and playing “Chopped” most evenings. (“Papa” – aka Ron – got to judge between Orvie and Bella who created the best original dish from the chosen ingredients. To no one’s surprise, Bella often won, although Orvie always insisted that it was because Bella’s concoctions were, in fact, better.)

Orvie laughed loudly and often. (She was so funny and sharp-witted.) Her green eyes sparkled. She lived boldly. But she also relished the simple pleasures. She turned her face to the sun, closed her eyes, and took it in. She loved zebras, hummingbirds, the ocean, and birds of paradise. She also was curious and fearless. Although she spent most of her life living in various cities in Missouri, she fit in wherever she went. When her girls moved to Washington, D.C., Chicago, and then San Diego, she excitedly explored each city on her frequent visits. When her girls spent a semester in London, England, when Shauna was in law school, Orvie spent a month there with them, exploring small shops, the multiple food halls, and navigating the picturesque streets. (When she returned to the States, she continued to delight in some British habits, including opening "Christmas crackers" each Christmas.) Wherever she went, Orvie loved to find a special store, a new restaurant, or a fun event or experience. For example, during COVID, Orvie learned of an outdoor sandcastle-building experience in San Diego. She signed herself and her girls up, and they then spent a beautiful day with an instructor building a magnificent 4-feet tall sandcastle complete with a moat and multiple towers. Orvie never passed up an opportunity to live. When asked by her girls if she wanted to go on an Alaskan cruise at the last minute, she started packing. Their vacations often became her vacations. She modeled what it means to live in the moment and to never put off for tomorrow what can be enjoyed today.

Orvie never knew a stranger, and she made friends wherever she went. Indeed, although Orvie had not been able to travel to San Diego to see her girls in more than two years due to her husband’s health (Orvie's girls traveled to her), Shauna and Bella still get questions about her from a San Diego-based taco shop owner who often asks when Orvie will return and order her favorite carne asada nachos. Separately, when her girls lived in Chicago, Orvie cultivated a friendship with the owner of a popular brunch spot, which resulted in Orvie and her family getting fast-tracked to the front of the line whenever she was in town. She did not befriend others for such perks. She did it because she genuinely cared about others and creating relationships. Her warmth radiated. If someone mentioned something they liked, she would find it, wrap it beautifully, and then give it to them. Their happiness brought her joy.

Orvie also loved God and her church. She looked forward each year to the annual Christmas pageant and the candlelight Christmas Eve service. When her husband and she became too ill to attend services, she faithfully watched the broadcast on television most Sundays. She also read her Bible nightly (reading it cover to cover), and she prayed often. When her girls had a cough or the sniffles, she would take to prayer, often texting and calling multiple times a day to tell them that she had been praying. And when cancer ravaged her body and threatened her spirit, she clung to God, even when her prayers for a cure and more time did not materialize. She never became bitter or angry, and she never blamed God. Although it will not be easy, her girls will try to emulate this example she has left behind.

Suffice it to say, Orvie leaves behind innumerable family and friends. To those who love her, they fear that life will always be dimmer without her in it. But they will honor her by speaking of her essence as follows: She loved, and she was loved.

A celebration of Orvie’s life will be planned for later. Since her passing, her family has learned of the monthly gifts she faithfully paid to various underserved communities. In keeping with her nature, she never spoke to her family of these monetary gifts. If you want to honor Orvie’s memory, her family can think of no better way than for you to find a non-profit or charity that speaks to your heart and pay it forward. She loved this world and all the beauty in it.