Oh my goodness, she could do it all. Patricia Dawn Carlyle Atkinson Stroh could sing, dance, act, write, and tell a bawdy joke. She could knit, sew, and make quilts that would become treasures for those who were lucky enough to have one. She could also give a hug that would make one feel loved and comforted during difficult times. For all those reasons, and many more, Mom will be missed. For her entire life she said she would never die. Sadly, she passed away September 16th at the age of 92. Perhaps, though, she was right all along. Maybe she knew she would live on in the lives of her children. Indeed, she does. In each of her eight kids, there is some of her talent, some of the gifts she bestowed in each of us… a pearl of wisdom, a dose of talent, a modicum of grace, a gift of gab. That was our mother. Mom passed a day after her 69th wedding anniversary of marriage to our father, Richard Nicholas Stroh, mere weeks after suffering a stroke. Her son, Richard Nicholas Jr., preceded her in death in 1998, as did grandson Jason Christopher Stroh, who died in 1986. She is survived by her husband, Richard Nicholas, seven children: Christopher, Laura, Thomas, Patricia, Barbara, William, and John, 13 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren. Mom is also survived by her brothers William E. and Alan C. Atkinson. (Mom was always proud of being an Atkinson.) She was born on March 12th. More precisely, in the words of those in theatre, Mom was born in a trunk. She learned at the knee of her father, William Carlyle Atkinson, who was an actor and dancer of great renown. Mom was acting for patrons of restaurants and theaters in Buffalo, New York, as young as three years of age. She was a redhead with incredible talent. She developed a singing voice that could sooth, entice and wow an audience. She was an actor with incredible range. She did comedy as deftly as she did drama in community theaters. She was a crafty Yente in “Fiddler on the Roof,” the clever Fonsia Dorsey in “The Gin Game,” and the soaring clairvoyant Madame Arcati in “Blithe Spirit.” Mom loved theatre. The stage was her home. It is where she thrived. It is also where Mom met our father. They met at Catholic University in Washington, D.C. while working on a play together. She sang, he played the piano. As Dad told us, her first words to him, after looking him up and down, were “I like your pants.” That was our mother in a nutshell, funny, bawdy, charming and quick. Mom was the most knowledgeable person we ever knew. She worked at the U.S. Capitol in the late 40s, acted in a wide range of plays in community theaters, and worked in a high school English Department where we are certain she intimidated teachers with her intelligence and wit. Mom will be missed. We will miss her repartee, her jokes, and her unwavering support of us. She was a formidable force who could fill a room with her spirit. She said she would never die. No, Mom, you never will. We will pass you down from generation to generation. You will live on in our hearts and in our minds. Thank you for the rich memories. Rest in peace.