Tina A. Hayley

Tina A. Hayley, (75), passed away on March 16, 2025.

She was a devoted teacher and loved the look on a child’s face when they “got it”. If they didn’t “get it” one way, she would try another and another until they did. She was always on the lookout for a teachable moment. She enjoyed teaching opportunities in Irrigon, Oregon, St Joseph Catholic School - Pine Bluff, Pine Bluff School District Gifted and Talented program, Pulaski County Special School District, Little Rock Central High, and volunteering at Layton Christian Academy.

She is survived by her loving and devoted husband, Greg Hayley, her daughter Adria Hoover (Joe), son Zachary Brodis, and 7 grandsons, Issac, Ian, Leo, Lewis, Peter, River and Winston. She is also survived by her “adopted” daughter, Jessica and granddaughter Aliyah. They all mourn the loss of her spirited guidance but will continue to grow and be fulfilled by her strong-willed love of learning and never-ending quest for justice. She leaves behind her a ripple effect of deep intellectual yearning for love and goodness in all there is.

Tina was awe inspired by nature, cherishing animals, plants, stones, crystals, and especially dragonflies. She valued natural medicine from various cultures, honoring an alternative way. She loved cooking and experimenting with spices and any variety of tea. Tina was graceful and poised, always offering a different perspective. She was solution driven, freely giving of her heart and intelligence.

Tina was raised in Shamokin Dam, PA, by her loving parents, Walter “Pete” Fisher, Doris Fisher and was especially grateful for the time she got to spend with her Grandmother Rose Kreischer and Aunt Joann. In addition to her parents and grandparents, she is preceded in death by her sisters Bonita Bartholomew and Wendy Derk.

A date for a ceremony of remembrance will be announced at a later date.

An Ode to My Mother, Who Did Things Her Way

You called it like you saw it,

sharp-eyed, keen, ever-curious.

A teacher in spirit, in deed, in heart—

always seeking, always sharing,

a light guiding hands to skill,

minds to knowledge, souls to wonder.

Even in play, you prepared me.

Stocked my satchels with healing,

my inventory lined with potions,

so that when I stepped into battle,

I could face it head-on,

never lacking, never faltering—

because you had already thought ahead.

And in the end, you did it your way,

just as you always had.

When it was time to go, you knew.

No grand speeches, no lingering weight—

just a gentle nudge, a quiet send-off:

“Go get some food.”

And when we returned, you were gone.

We will miss you, forever and always,

but we will carry your lessons, your love,

your way of moving through this world—

with curiosity, with care, with courage.

And maybe, just maybe,

when we meet again,

you’ll have a few potions waiting.

By Zach Brodis