Patterson, Marsha

Patterson, Marsha Louise

Marsha Louise Patterson was born Friday, May 24, 1940, in Des Moines, Iowa. On Sunday, August 4, 2024, surrounded by family, she passed away peacefully. She was in the comfort of her home in The Villages of Florida. She was 84 years of age.

Marsha is predeceased by her mother Mabel Millsap, her father John Rider, and her son Paul (Toenya) Patterson. She is survived by her husband James Robert Twist, her daughter Paige Patterson, her son Terry (Michele) Patterson, her stepdaughter Ingrid (Jim) Hamilton, her 15 grandchildren, and her 15 great-grandchildren.

There will be a Celebration of Life ceremony held 4:00 pm to 8:00 pm on September 14, 2024 at: 1500 Finger Lakes, Centerville, Ohio 45458. In lieu of flowers, please donate to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation in her name.

Marsha Patterson was many things to many people. Few that crossed her path were left unaffected. She revered positivity and optimism and we couldn't help but leave interactions with her feeling brighter. Walking lighter. With a greater sense of ease and gratitude. Her grace was infectious in an effortless sort of way. She reveled in the most mundane of moments, so we were drawn to her presence. "What does she know that I don't?" She practiced being present. Asking, "In this moment, what is lacking?" She seemed to consistently acknowledge that in fact, nothing was lacking. She stood in awe of the unfolding of life. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Writing things like, "As I looked up from my computer screen, I gasped. The early morning sky is a flaming canvas of crimson and gold and lavender. Simply breathtaking."

She honored herself and she laughed at herself. She marveled at the undeniable signs of her own aging. Fascinated by, not fearful of, the process. She viewed it as just another adventure. She fondly recalled the times of her life, both joyous and tragic, as adventures. Gifts.

She loved Life in all of its many forms. Occasionally even, in opposition to the viewpoints of those closest to her. "Why shouldn't I name the Norway Rat who frequents my backyard?" She challenged us to be better without ever suggesting that we weren't already perfect the way we were, had been, or will be.

She saw people. Met them where they were at and supported and encouraged them to be who they were, where they were. She strived to embrace herself. All of her greatness and all of her perceived shortcomings. She kindly urged everyone she met to do the same. Sharing things like, "Years ago I read something meaningful to me: Two people are creating pictures from clouds in the sky. One turns to the other and asks, "Have you ever seen an imperfect cloud?" When I read this, I realized... No. I have never seen an imperfect cloud, nor an imperfect person. All I can really be is perfectly me."

She leapt at chances to ponder the meaning of it all and humbly accepted that we may never know. "It only makes for a more exciting adventure."

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