Patricia Louise Kubly

God bless my Mother. Mother was raised on a farm and did chores before and after she went to school. Still, she found the time to help out her ailing aunt with her baby after school and often made dinner for them before heading home to her own family. That selflessness continued into adulthood where although she had 17 children to care for she found time to care for her own father after her mother passed. She also worked full time while raising that family. She grew up during the Great Depression and that made a big impact on how she viewed the challenges of her life. She hated farming, and swore she’d never marry a farmer. And when Daddy came along he wasn’t a farmer. He was just back from the war when she met him with curlers in her hair. But then after they married he went to work for her father on the farm and before they knew it there they were. We loved growing up on a farm. Those of us too young at the time to do farm work, perhaps more so than others. But being outdoors from sun up, or 10 a.m. for me, until 8 or 9 p.m. just messing around was the best thing about it. So much to get up to, to explore and discover. Just walking down the lane in the hot sun is one of my favorite things. All the stray cats and not so stray dogs. Some of my favorite memories from childhood are of my parents getting all dressed up on a Saturday night and dancing. I remember how they glided and twirled so quickly and effortlessly in each other’s arms. She with her bouffant hair recently done and her floor length gowns and he all spiffed up in a fancy suit most often with a bolo tie and those shiny white shoes. I always hoped one day I’d find a love like they had. And I did. They didn’t know it but they gave us everything we’d ever need just letting us bear witness. I also loved the secret poker parties my brothers had while our parents were out. Loved the warm beer and the quarters dropped and forgotten we found under the kitchen table on Sunday mornings before church. Mother was phenomenal with babies, I remember struggling to keep mine from crying. Walking the floor, rocking, bouncing, telling everyone to be quiet, wrapping and re-wrapping and Mother would walk in and take them into her arms and they’d instantly be calm and peaceful. They’d be unwrapped, dangling comfortably half in half out of her arms sitting or standing while she held conversations, it didn’t matter. She taught us so much about babies, about relationships, about life. She was never one to sit around and feel sorry for herself. If a problem arose she confronted it and found a solution. Very matter of fact she was. She told the funniest stories and could always reduce us to fits of laughing in tears. She was a hard partner to have in euchre, she made trump every time, even without a single high card in her hand. So you had to always be prepared to roll with it. Most of the time she didn’t need your help to score anyway. She really loved playing cards with everyone. She was always there for me, throughout my life, with an encouraging word or just a sympathetic ear. She didn’t hold grudges or dwell in the past she forged her way forward. Her memory was better than mine. She told so many stories about her childhood, the early years of her marriage, and then the early years of her children and grandchildren’s lives. Most of them don’t even recall with the detail she did. A thought on her famous banana bread. Try as I may over so so many years to make banana bread like her, sadly I never managed. Face it siblings neither did you, your’e fooling yourselves if you believe otherwise. She made it with me, I watched her make it, she gave me her recipe, all to no success. Sure it may taste like bananas, just not like hers. It was something of a mystery how she didn’t even use the same ingredients every time but it would always taste the same. We all looked forward to it at every gathering, counted on it. That mystery will remain. These past few years being her person, being there to help her through her illness brought us closer together and gave me much to be grateful for. It felt good to be able to do something for her. She had that intuition mothers have and she could sense when something was off. Even as an adult I couldn’t lie, she knew every time. She didn’t worry if she could handle the treatment or all the daily trips she worried it would be hard on me. Hard on my family. What she didn’t understand is that I wouldn’t trade that time for anything. Nothing was more important to me. She meant more to me that I can ever convey I honestly don’t know how I will do this without her. She remained strong and independent and positive until the end. She fought the good fight. She kept the faith. And when it was time, she moved on. I pray she’s with them now, her parents, her children who went before her, and of course the love of her life. I will love and miss her forever. A golden heart stopped beating, Hard working hands at rest, It broke our hearts to see you go, God only takes the best. They say that memories are golden, Well maybe that is true, But we never wanted memories, We only wanted you. Your life was love and labour, Your love for your family true, You did your best for all of us, We will always remember you. We sat beside your bedside, Our hearts were crushed and sore, We did our duty to the end, 'Til we could do no more. In tears we watched you sinking, We watched you fade away, And though our hearts were breaking, We knew you could not stay. Our lips cannot speak how we loved you, Our hearts cannot tell what to say, But God only knows how we miss you, In our home that is lonely today.

There are few women in this world that loved their family as fiercely, and as loyally, as Pat. When I was young and accompanied the family to Naples, Florida, I was in awe of how you all included your Mother. She was so happy, as was every ONE of her Grandkids, to have her there making memories along side of them. Pat seemed to revel in the chance to be (even) closer to her family, make memories and find shells on the beach. We brought GALLON BAG, after GALLON BAG home that year, of shells and a lifetimes worth of memories. Never had I known a family, before yours, that loved so unconditionally and profusely as the Kubly's. She will never be forgotten, and words do not do her Spirit justice. She was a phenomenal human and an amazingly strong woman and mother. She was so lucky to have such an amazing daughter Patti. Love to you and yours during an unimaginably difficult time. Love you all. Mel

I did not know Patricia personally, but I do know two of her daughters, Mary and Bonnie. They are incredible women, of which, I'm sure they got from their mother. My Condolences to them and the Kubly family.

Happy Birthday Beautiful Lady. I'm sure you're playing cards and have a beautiful party planned today with those we miss so much, but we plan to send you Lanterns later this evening. We hope they find their way right to you and that you know how much you are missed. Sending love with our lights in the sky. We miss you.