Lisa Smith Cleary

There are people who pass through this world and leave it a little warmer than they found it. And then there was Lisa Smith Cleary. She didn’t just warm the room — she made every person in it feel like they were the most important one there. On March 24, 2026, that warmth left us when Lisa passed away suddenly, but peacefully at the age of 67.
Lisa was born on October 13, 1958, in Harlan, Kentucky — a place she carried with her in her warmth, her directness, and her unshakeable roots. She was the daughter of Helen Holsclaw Smith and Donald Cawood Smith, two people whose love would be tested early and would hold. When Lisa was just eleven years old, she was diagnosed with cancer. The road that followed was long and hard, filled with hospital wards and uncertainty. Every single morning during her recovery, her mother would wait outside the hospital for visiting hours to start, sending her acorns by way of the charge nurse — a small, quiet act of devotion that said everything: I am here. You are not alone. Lisa survived. She emerged as an above-the-knee amputee — and with a purpose so clear it would shape every decade that followed.
Lisa attended the University of Kentucky where she graduated with a degree in physical therapy. She knew what it felt like to face the long road to recovery, and she spent her career walking that road alongside others. Lisa felt a particular devotion to amputees who needed not only therapy, but someone who understood. It was in physical therapy school on rotation in New Orleans that she met the man with whom she would spend her life: Walter Kim Cleary. Their love story began there, warm and full, and eventually carried her home to Kentucky, where together they built their physical therapy practice — a practice they ran with equal parts warmth and skill.
Faith was not something Lisa kept quietly. It was the air she breathed, the current running through everything she did. As a devoted member of Central Baptist Church, she led Sunday school, Awana groups, and women’s and children’s ministries — not out of obligation, but because she loved Jesus. She believed in the power of prayer the way other people believe in gravity: completely, and without needing to explain it. She prayed for her family, her community, her patients, and probably for the stranger she’d just met in the grocery store, because Lisa was always paying attention to the people around her. She always noticed who needed lifting.
Her home was a place people wanted to be. The table was always set. The kitchen always smelled like something wonderful. Lisa’s homemade meals were love made edible. She baked for every school occasion, remembered each child’s favorite treats, and the moment a friend was going through something hard, Lisa was already in the kitchen. You didn’t have to ask. She just showed up, casserole in hand, ready to sit with you for as long as you needed. Her cooking was a love language, fluent and generous and entirely her own.
Her grandchildren called her Lovie. It wasn’t just a name — it was a recognition. They understood something about her, the way children always know who the safe people are. To be in Lovie’s arms was to be completely and unconditionally held. She was the embodiment of love — not the polished, reserved kind, but the loud, involved, showing-up-at-every-game, baking-your-birthday-cake-from-scratch, praying-for-you-by-name kind. The kind that leaves a mark.
Lisa never met a stranger. She loved deeply and without reservation. She had a gift — rare and irreplaceable — for making every person she encountered feel truly seen. Not just noticed, but seen: known, valued, welcome. People left her presence standing a little taller. They walked away thinking the world was a better place. It was — because she was in it.
Lisa is survived by her husband and their three children: Ryan Kim Cleary (Laura) of Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, Laura Elizabeth Sati-Cleary (Girish) of Navi Mumbai, Maharashtra, India, and Sarah Cleary Nelson (August) of Nashville, Tennessee. In addition, she is survived by four grandchildren: Caroline, Catherine, George, and Claudia. She is also survived by her brother, Cawood Gregory Smith (Sherrie).
Funeral services were held Saturday, March 28 at Central Baptist Church, 201 W 4th Street, Corbin, Kentucky, with Josh Pollitt officiating.
Burial followed in Cumberland Memorial Gardens at Lily, Kentucky.
In lieu of flowers, those inclined may consider donating to the Manger Ministry at Central Baptist Church, Corbin, Kentucky.