Patricia Susanne Evans

Obituary

Patricia Susanne Evans

August 17, 1940- February 13, 2026

Patricia Sue Evans Born August 17, 1945 - Passed from this life January 13th, 2026

What will you be remembered for?

I want to recall for you, and to all those who knew her, the life of a woman who lived quietly but powerfully through her steadfast character, humor and love. She lived in the part of our Nation where the wind never quite stops and the sunsets paint the sky with fire. She was the kind of woman who didn't seek attention, but one whose life caught it anyway. Very few knew that she was a Valedictorian; smart, sharp and humble to boot. Which is why, I think, that when we played scrabble with her, she seemed forever unbeatable because excellence was deep in her roots.

She had a laugh that could pull you out of your own worries and a look that could keep you honest when your words started wandering. And with one favorite, well-worn phrase, she could stop her kid's whining by saying, "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." She ever helped us, and all those around her, to identify weaknesses hiding inside. She just wanted everyone to experience goodness, safety, and happiness; that was her focus all of her life! It was even made more evident, though her memory was fading and life began waning; she was loved by so many, yes even her nurses, because of all Pat's endearing purposes! (Thank you to Keristyn as well… we could not have done it without you and your family!)

Pat had a way of being everywhere without ever needing to be noticed. But she could still go anywhere and be noticed. I was always amazed how she could be even two towns over and someone would come up and say "Hi," followed by 30 minutes of sincere conversation. (And -++then all parties were allowed to say "good bye.") She just "knew people" because she had the precious gift of "seeing them" for who they were.

Her humor was wrapped in dry wit and gentle sarcasm, the kind that made you chuckle even while she straightened out your wrong thinking. That fun-loving, precisely timed volley, was mostly assuredly "after coffee." I mean, most the time people saw her after she had her morning coffee - except the nurses - but trust me, as kids we knew just as well, not to talk to Pat until after she had coffee. I vaguely remember her having a sign in the kitchen we would see first thing coming up from the basement, "Don't talk to me until I've had my Coffee." (I think there was a lion on the background too.) On the other hand though, one of her favorite t-shirts was, "Life's short. Eat Dessert first." If the shoe fits.

Patty Sue lived simply. My dad loved that name; and her simplicity. She'd rather spend time, energy and effort, along with the funds to get there, to go rock hunting. Anything that looked like a fossil, a native artifact or just plain outstanding in beauty... she wanted it brought home. My brother and I can remember a time where we brought a 200 lb piece of petrified wood across Fort Peck Reservoir, in a 12ft aluminum row boat, being pushed by a 10-horse motor, with ALL FOUR of us IN the boat as well, praying for NO WIND! I think that was the first time dad coined the phrase "lever-rite." A term well known these days, but one fostered greatly by my father over the many times that monster had to be picked up and moved with them, instead of "leaving it right there!"

She didn't chase after recognition. Pat was born with resolve. Some saw it as stubbornness, but it was something that got carved out of rough times and rugged trials in her life. It was a resolute testing of her person, which carved deep lines of regret and amazing grace into her soul. She understood people in their pain and gave a personal compassion, which came from life's experience. She had this ability to convey, "Sin is like barbed wire. Looks harmless from a distance, but once your tangled up, you'll bleed like hell trying to get loose." Pat helped a lot of people in her lifetime, especially battered women and their children… God saw you Mom.

One of my visits during the days before landing in the nursing home, I asked Pat, "Do you know where you will go when you die?" Without hesitation she answered, "Heaven." Having been trained extensively in her sharpened jocularity, I said, "What on earth makes you think you're gonna get in?" Her reply was sweet music, "Jesus of course." That may not fit someone's perfect theology, yet hear this. Even though she was beginning to lose her memory, Pat recounted the time when she was young, sick, and apparently close to a death which only penicillin could help reverse. Her story went on to include an out-of-body experience and seeing her parents weeping, while looking down on herself lying there. Then Jesus came up beside her. He spoke to her about how everything was going to be alright and then He talked with her about her need to believe in Him; to receive Him for healing and salvation. Pat then told me she said, "I did. I mean I must of, because the next thing I remember was waking up and being alright."

Patrica Sue Evans was the "real deal." She may not have preached the Gospel of the Kingdom, but she revealed it through her life. God is the only Judge who knows the hearts and minds of every person. She had seen how sin steals and shames, but she also knew how Jesus redeems and restores. Over the years, all of us will one day show signs of wear. My Mom's signs were gradual, but when her final illness came, she faced it in God's grace. She faced it the same way she faced everything else: with humor, courage and faith. And what's seemingly crazy, is that many would agree, Pat seemed to get even better in character while she slowly faded away. She may have pinched a nurse or two in frustration and got angry, probably due to no morning coffee, but how is it that those who knew her only in that place, could fall in love with her over the years? Because they saw the true person she was... focused daily on her bright smiling face?

If Pat were still alive and able to speak, I think she'd tell everyone, "Life isn't measured by how well we behave, but rather by how fully we believe. When you stand before God, He won't ask what you built - He'll ask who you trusted." So, ask yourself, before that day comes, "What will you be remembered for?" (Note: If you want to share your thoughts and or memories of Pat, or even if you have questions about God and Jesus... Feel free to contact Don Evans @ 307-763-3104 or email donevans.wy@gmail.com) Finally, Pat Evans is survived by her loved ones: one sister and brother-in-law, her son, her daughter, one step-son and their spouses. Lord, give them peace and make Your face shine upon them as they grieve the loss of their Sister and Mother. Online condolences may be made at www.bryantfuneralhomeonline.com.