Caroline Lucy Pawelek

In Loving Memory of Caroline Lucy Pawelek
September 29, 1939 – September 5, 2025
Caroline Lucy Pawelek was born on September 29, 1939, in the small town of Kosciusko, Texas, to Ben and Eleanore (Scheffler) Moczygemba. As an infant, her first journey took her to Edinburg, Texas, and soon after to McCook - the place she would forever call home and where she spent the rest of her days.
Caroline was a true farm girl. "Town" was only for necessities - groceries from H-E-B and odds and ends from Walmart. Her children often joked, "If Walmart didn't have it, it didn't exist or it wasn't needed."
Her faith was the anchor of her life. Her rosary was a constant companion - never hung, never cold, always in her hands or tucked in her pocket. A devout Catholic and lifelong member of Immaculate Conception Catholic Church in McCook, Caroline's prayers stitched their way through every joy and hardship.
With her beloved husband Stanley, she built a life, a home, and a farm - brick by brick, day by day. She often said, "I'll die in McCook," and in the most Caroline way, she did - exactly as she intended, with her daughter Cindy faithfully by her side.
Strong-willed and fiercely loving, Caroline was the trunk and roots of her family tree. "When Momma wanted something," her children say, "she got it." That strength - that fire - lives on in them.
Small but mighty, Momma was always tougher than she looked. She faced every challenge with a bit of holy water and a lot of faith.
Caroline's hands were never still. She sewed nearly everything she wore, and if it came from a store, she'd tear it apart and remake it "right." Quilts were her love letters - handmade and gifted to her children as they stepped into their own adult lives.
In the kitchen, she was a legend. Chicken and dumplings were the most requested dish whenever the grandkids came to visit - a warm, comforting meal made with love you could taste. But if you asked for a recipe, be warned: Caroline was famous for booby-trapping them. She'd purposely change an ingredient or measurement. You had to watch, learn, and do if you really wanted to learn her way. Cindy learned that the hard way - a coffee cake recipe gone sideways resulted in a freezer full of overly sweet pocifca for years.
She loved sitting outside on the swing Justin built for her, watching the birds and soaking in the quiet beauty of the land she loved. When Steven and Cindy visited, they always wanted to help - but she wouldn't hear of it. And if they did manage to start a task, they had a constant supervisor right behind them, making sure it was done her way.
Caroline leaves behind her only son, Steven, who called her every single day - without fail. They talked about the dogs, the birds, the cows, whether it had rained, and how the crops were doing. It was part of their daily rhythm, a simple and steadfast connection that grounded them both. Even in her final hours, the phone call still had to be made - because that's what they did.
Her signature reply to life's little surprises came with a half-smile and a tilt of her head:
"You're kidding?!"
Caroline lived simply, loved quietly, and gave fully. She wore only her watch and wedding rings - no makeup needed, as her beauty came from within. Her two rescue dogs, Arrow and Beanie, were her spoiled companions, pampered with more toys and treats than they needed (and a few extra pounds to prove it).
She adored her animals - especially her cows. Steven constantly reminded her of their size and strength, but she insisted on feeding her favorite cow toast anyway. Tough as nails, Caroline fearlessly faced down snakes, critters, and any threat to her yard. Even in her final hours, she gave clear instructions: "Turn off the fans, turn off the lights, check the stove, blow out the candle - it's time to get out of here."
She is survived by her children: Steven Pawelek of Bellville, Texas and Cindy Raleigh (Justin) of Palacios, Texas; her beloved grandchildren: Samantha Pawelek, Lucy Mohr, Madi Mohr, Hannah Raleigh, Celeste Pawelek and Noah Raleigh. She is also survived by her cherished siblings: Florence (her best friend and daily confidante), Bernadine, Valeria, Monica, Raymond, and Ernest.
The family is especially grateful to Florence and her husband Ricky for their constant love and help during this time. In addition to her immediate family, Caroline leaves behind a legacy of love that stretches across Texas and beyond - countless friends, nieces, nephews, cousins, and neighbors whose lives she touched with her kindness, wit, and strength.
She was preceded in death by her husband Stanley Pawelek, her daughter Lynnette, her sister Edna, and her parents, Ben and Eleanore Moczygemba.
And though we grieve, we take comfort in knowing exactly what happened when she arrived in heaven:
She found Stanley, gave him a look, and asked, "Stadi -What took you so long?"
Then she sat with Lynnette, threaded a needle, started sewing, and began catching up with Lourine, Lillian, and all her friends on the latest McCook happenings.
Gathering of friends and family will be held on Tuesday, September 9, 2025 at 6:00 p.m. at Immaculate Conception Catholic Church in McCook, TX. A Rosary and the Divine Mercy Chaplet will be recited at 7:00 p.m. A funeral Mass will be celebrated on Wednesday, September 10, 2025 at 9:00 a.m. at Immaculate Conception Church in McCook, Texas with burial to follow at the Immaculate Conception Catholic Cemetery
Per Caroline's wishes, the casket will remain closed. As she put it:
"You saw me when I was me, that's all you need to remember"
The family asks for donations to the Anchor of Love Hospice in McAllen in lieu of flowers. They provided end of life care and support for Momma.
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