1943 - 2025
Pat leaves behind her beloved daughters, Kathleen Williams and her husband, Brian, of Oxford, and Sharon Stournaras and her husband, John, of Framingham. She also leaves behind her siblings Barbara Webb and her husband, John, of Fairfield, CT; Tom Bliss and his wife, Pat, of Worcester; Bill Bliss and his wife, Kathy, of Texas; and Maryellen Bliss of Framingham. She was immensely proud of her 12 grandchildren—Jennifer, Heather, Michelle, Nicholas, Christopher, Stephanie, Jacqueline, Michael, Alexis, Jacob, Benjamin, and Lillianna—and her three great-grandchildren, Mason, Damon, and Kira, who filled her days with joy (and kept her delightfully on her toes). Pat is also survived by her beloved daughter-in-law, Johanna Morse. She was predeceased by her daughter, Susan De La Rosa; her son, Robert P. Morse Jr.; and her brothers, Joseph and George Bliss.
Family was always the heart of Pat’s world. Although she held many roles in her life—even a stint as a school bus driver (if you can believe it)—her greatest accomplishments were the people she loved. She never missed an opportunity to praise her children and grandchildren, often marveling at how she ended up with such a talented, funny, beautiful family—while jokingly claiming at least part of the credit. She took special pride in her daughters Kathy and Sharon, whose care and companionship in her later years meant the world to her. Their trips to Florida created memories filled with sunshine, laughter, and gratitude.
Pat’s life was full of passions, big and small. She loved traveling to warmer places than New England, riding oceanside with the wind in her hair and Bob beside her. She adored time spent chatting and dancing with her grandchildren, and she spoiled her great-grandchildren with limitless affection. Her fandom was legendary—Pat loved Tom Brady almost as much as the Kennedys, and her Cadillac just a smidge more than that. The bumper sticker on the back—“I used to be cool”—captured her humor perfectly. With Pat, there were always smiles, laughter, and yes, a little bit of gossip.
She’ll be remembered for how genuine she was. Pat celebrated your wins, laughed with you in your most embarrassing moments, and always told the truth with kindness. She supported others in the most down-to-earth ways—showing up, listening, and loving unconditionally. Her stories were unforgettable, from being the grandmother who went to every soccer game but refused to sit in the bleachers, to the mother who calmly waited to be rescued from a stuck elevator only to be greeted by Bob’s iconic joke—“Not really, we’ve all been together for a week!”
Pat’s passing in December feels fitting—Christmas being her favorite time of year, filled with family, music, lights, and warmth. Even when life grew difficult, she continued to teach everyone around her about resilience, humor, and heart.
There will never be another Pat. We’ll see her in the glow of holiday lights, hear her voice in every Patriots game, and remember her through her laugh-out-loud voicemails, clever Christmas cards, and love of Frank Sinatra. She was our foundation—strong, steady, nurturing, and just mischievous enough to keep life interesting. A true original, a fierce supporter, a loving mother and grandmother, and one hell of a poker player.
In the end, she would have appreciated being remembered in Frank’s words, which she loved so dearly:
“I’ve loved. I’ve laughed and cried
I’ve had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside.
I find it all so amusing
To think I did all"
