On September 12, 2022, Patricia Rose Frederick passed away peacefully in her sleep, aged 78, leaving behind a devastated and spoiled family and an even more spoiled cat.
Pat was born to Edna and Frank Cartwright on January 9, 1944, in Abbotsford, BC, and raised with three sisters and four brothers in a humble farming family in Glenn Valley.
She adored her father, celebrated her mother and chased after her brothers through a vibrant, character building childhood. She took the all of the adversity in her life and remained positive throughout.
Pat met Ken Frederick, the love of her life, in 1962 - a relationship that spanned eleven years and resulted in two children (Terri and Warren) that became the focus of her life thereafter.
She was a devoted mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, lovingly known as “Grams” and “GG”.
A puritanical hard worker, she loved to provide for her family as a fastidious bookkeeper. She managed to a great life for her family as a single mother - a testament to the magic she could work with numbers.
Pat was the “mom” everywhere she worked and she treated her co-workers like family. People just gravitated to her.
Many people were lucky enough to call Pat their best friend. It was just her nature. She made everyone feel welcome. Laid back, easy to talk to, fun, she genuinely cared about helping whoever came to her. She was always there for a laugh or a cry and you always left feeling better than when you came.
Her humour and dry, sarcastic wit kept you on your toes and reminded you that it’s ok to laugh at yourself, that there’s always humour to be found.
Her spartan upbringing instilled in her a deep gratitude for all of the amenities of modern life. She never forgot to thank her garbagemen or praise her dishwasher or washing machine.
She exuded an aura of dignity and grace - which made the exceptions so memorable, most notably “The Mop Incident of ’82” and “The Lottery and the Keg Table”.
She loved her family, her friends, her cat, the Canucks, Wine, Rex Murphy, George Clooney and Kris Kristofferson.
And we loved her.
Rest in peace, Grams, I know you’ll have a pot of coffee waiting for us when we get there.
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