Cathryn Marie Patrick, 62, of Nevada, Missouri, passed away on Saturday, August 8, 2026, at Research Medical Center in Kansas City, MO. In accordance with Cathy’s wishes, a cremation has taken place. A celebration of life and memorial service will be planned for a later date. Further information regarding the memorial will be shared by the family once finalized. In lieu of flowers, the family suggests memorial contributions be made in her honor to one of the following organizations: Furry Kids’ Refuge, P.O. Box 1442, Lee’s Summit, MO 64063, or Friends of Lakeside Nature Center, 4701 E. Gregory Blvd., Kansas City, MO 64132.

Born on December 8, 1963, in Lawton, Oklahoma, to the people who knew and loved her, she was simply Cathy—an independent woman with twinkling eyes, a musical, infectious laugh, and a stubborn determination to make her own way in the world.

Some of Cathy’s earliest years were spent with her parents in a tiny trailer in her Aunt Loma’s apple orchard, a place that became the setting for many treasured family memories, including the arrival of her baby sister, Molly, when Cathy was four years old. Aunt Loma made matching dresses for the girls every Christmas, while their mother created elaborate dollhouses from recycled materials, complete with handmade furniture. Among Cathy’s favorite toys was a life-sized doll made by her mother that she could dress in her own clothes.

Cathy’s extraordinary tenderness toward animals appeared early and remained with her throughout her life. As a little girl, she once spent an entire morning befriending and naming a big yellow-and-brown caterpillar. On the way through the orchard to pick strawberries, Aunt Loma’s big yellow tomcat stood on his hind legs, snatched Cathy’s new friend, and broke her heart.

Cathy was the mother of all living things. She tenderly nurtured plants, dogs, horses and humans. She especially adored dogs and always had them by her side. And because no member of the family was to be forgotten at Christmas—not even the four-legged or feathered ones—Cathy insisted that every horse, goat, chicken, and assorted creature needed a Christmas stocking. Her mother obliged, making tiny stockings and tacking them around the doorframe.

Years later, when the family had a Saint Bernard whose tongue hung permanently from his mouth because of a defect, Cathy and her younger sister would go outside several times a day to gently pour water over his tongue and rinse away the dirt. Cathy was still a child herself, but caring for a creature who needed a little extra help already seemed completely natural to her. Horses and dogs held an especially important place in her heart. Her beloved dog, ByTor, was bathed in the kitchen sink when he was a puppy and rocked in a rocking chair until he finally became too big for both. When she eventually lost him, Cathy had him cremated and kept his ashes with her. Animals were never simply pets to Cathy; they were all her babies.

Cathy also had an extraordinary green thumb. Her vegetable gardens flourished, her houseplants thrived, and she took tremendous pride in her yard. Whatever her circumstances, Cathy cultivated beauty around herself. Her plants and gardens were always lovingly tended, and she seemed able to coax almost anything into growing.

Cathy was a remarkably gifted artist, an ability she inherited from her mother. Horses and dogs, of course, were favorite subjects, although her drawings also morphed into delightfully groovy mushrooms and an elaborate style of bubble lettering entirely her own, which she used to turn friends’ names into little works of art. Creativity seemed simply to live in her hands.

She possessed a natural intelligence and curiosity that had little to do with formal education. When her baby sister Molly was born, their mother had to remain in the hospital for a time, so Cathy and her father brought the new baby home and helped care for her. A few years later, when she started school, Cathy would spend her afternoons with Molly in the apple orchard, teaching her to read before Molly was even three years old. Cathy could not have known what she was setting in motion. Her baby sister would grow up with an insatiable love of books, learning, and words and eventually become a writer. It was one of many gifts Cathy left behind.

A tender heart did not prevent Cathy from fulfilling the traditional duties of a big sister, though. Knowing Molly was terrified of spiders, she took particular delight in tormenting her with daddy longlegs. They fought as sisters do, laughed as sisters do, and shared an extraordinary bond that outlasted all of life’s many struggles.

Cathy had a spirited side, too. As a teenager, she loved to drive fast, undoubtedly giving her parents more than a few reasons to worry. She loved Dr. Pepper, cooking and eating Mexican food with her dad, and was well known in familiar circles for making the best jalapeno poppers, the best sweet tea and her famous broccoli salad.

Of all the roles Cathy grew into during her life, none mattered more to her than being a mother to her two children, Christopher and Sara. She loved them fiercely and unconditionally; with the same protective heart she brought to everyone and everything she held dear.

Christopher survived a devastating four-wheeler accident as a teenager that left him with a spinal cord injury and dependent on a wheelchair. Cathy supported and encouraged him through all the years that followed. When Christopher died after living for many years with the effects of his injury, she endured a loss no mother should ever have to bear. She carried her love for him for the rest of her life.

And still, Cathy continued.

She continued loving her daughter, Sara. She continued loving her six grandchildren, Hailey, Kristin, Jonathan, Briar, June, and Annabelle. She continued loving her animals. She continued being stubbornly herself and determined to make her own way.

In the final chapter of her life, Cathy was doing exactly that. She had moved from a home that was no longer serving her, into a clean, safe place of her own and was beginning to build a new life there. She still had several beloved dogs, of course. But a new home and a new beginning apparently called for one more. Cathy brought home a Goldendoodle puppy and named her Molly, after the little sister she had once helped bring home from the hospital, taught to read beneath the apple trees, tormented with daddy longlegs, fought with, laughed with, and loved.

There were chapters in Cathy’s life marked by hardship, heartbreak, and unimaginable loss, but through it all, the tenderhearted little girl who once cried over a caterpillar remained part of her. She loved and protected her family, cared for creatures who needed her, and continued to begin again and again.

Cathy was here. She loved fiercely, created beautifully, cared tenderly, and left pieces of herself behind in the lives she touched.

She continued.

Cathy is survived by her mother, Yvonne Kathleen Wade; her daughter, Sara Lee Dean (partner, Jedediah Tate Smith); her brother, Johnny Ray (Suzi) Cliff; and her sister, Molly Mae (James) Jennings. She is also survived by her six cherished grandchildren: Briar Dean Jarrell, June Lee Glaze, Annabelle Gale Glaze, Hailey Dawn Dean, Kristin Marie Dean, and Jonathan Kane Dean; as well as, her beloved nieces and nephews: Emma, Mortis, Connor, and Colin Jennings. Cathy was preceded in death by her father, John Wesley Wade, and her beloved son, Christopher John Dean.