Patricia J. Dunbar

She loved to laugh, and she lived to love others. Patricia Dunbar was like no one else. She was such a presence in our lives that it feels unreal to share the news that Pat passed on Sunday, September 27, 2026, at the age of 82. She transitioned to her next chapter from Lincolnwood, IL, where we had moved Mom for her final years with dementia, an awful, slow disease that earns its name as “the long goodbye” - and one that impacts so many. The light in all of that journey was Pat’s persistent humor, her love of mischievous laughter, and an unwavering, child-like joy at the simplest of things. Even as illness robbed her of language and cognition, she could say, “I love you” nearly to the end, she made jokes, she held on to us with an amazing physical and emotional strength, and conveyed in her eyes what we knew - that her bond of love was undimmed. It was a gift to know her.

The number of friends, family, and neighbors who have a funny story or fond memory about Pat are too many to count. We find it hard to put into words what she meant to us, or to summarize a life with such complexity, struggles, and joys.

Patricia Ann Johnson was born in St. Petersburg, FL, in 1943, to Sam & Annette (Bryant) Johnson. She and her older brother David enjoyed childhoods filled with grandparents and cousins from a multi-generational family who moved to St Petersburg in the 1880s and who were part of its rapid growth. Among his career turns, her father leased cottages to low-income families and felt a strident pride in keeping these homes beautiful; their renters included many families of color, and Pat grew up outside the norms of pre-Civil Rights era South, befriending and playing with children of all colors, yet unaware of society’s divisions. She always said this early experience informed her deeply held conviction that standing up for equality, for others, for people of all kinds was a core value in our family. One of Pat’s most proud family stories was of the time she got to shake the hand of Dr Martin Luther King, Jr, on an Atlanta street outside her work (where she was a bank teller in her young professional career) in the 1960s, and his image was displayed in our family homes up until she moved from Virginia in 2022.

Pat’s teen years brought a new sibling, Annette Bryant Johnson, a “surprise” addition to the family when she was 14. She became a big sister and a puckish teen in the same era, learning pranks with her cousins and spending joyful summers with family in the mountains of North Carolina, near Hendersonville, another family home base. She spoke often of feeling like the unfavored girl, not bright enough, and an unattractive adolescent (recoiling at the cruel nickname “fatty Patty”, bestowed by her older brother), yet her teenage years saw her blossom into a beauty that she could not always see herself. At age 17, by way of a pushy parent’s entry, she won a Kodak Film competition to be a model in one of their magazine advertisements. She was inheriting the looks of her mom and aunts, who despite coming from poor beginnings, left stunningly photographed 1940s-50s portraits of movie-star looks. Though confident in her passions, Pat was always smarter and more beautiful than she believed herself to be.

In the 1960s, Pat moved to Atlanta - a place she described as the only Southern city to move to as a young, single person. She got a job as a bank teller, and later taught us kids the now-defunct skills of rolling pennies and other coins. She had a roommate, rented a modest apartment in the trendiest part of 1960s Atlanta, and made friends with the food truck workers who were her lunchtime conversation partners on workdays.

On a warm weekend Sunday in 1968, she met John Dunbar, the love of her life. He helped her up from a bicycle accident on their neighborhood street and invited her to a meal of his family-famous pot roast. They saw each other continuously for 3 days, instantly in love, and Dad proposed to Mom the following Wednesday. Today, no person in their right mind would advise such a rush into love and marriage, but John and Patricia knew their hearts, and they were wed the following November, 1968, in St. Petersburg, FL. They were partnered for 32 years until Dad’s passing in April, 2000, when he succumbed to a long battle with cancer. They were devoted, each of them showing us in their actions what love looks like in happy and in difficult times.

When Bryant came along in 1970 and Colin in 1974, Patricia was learning motherhood in real time. Though she struggled with post-partem depression, she dove into parenting us. As a mom, Patricia was fun, creative, dedicated to our learning, passionate about our interests, emphatic that we try new things and expand our views and experiences. There were volunteer stints at the local church, as a Sunday School teacher, and at the schools we attended. There were trips to museums, homemade Halloween costumes, elaborate themed birthday parties, fostered collections of rocks or keepsakes, late nights toiling over homework assignments, trips to the local mall to buy us the latest coveted look, and exciting holidays with Christmas tree displays that made our hearts explode or curated Easter baskets that riveled those at the Department store. These were all Patricia’s work. Her creativity, silliness, and sense of fun permeated our childhoods, as did her inspiration of loving others, valuing kindness, and standing up for what’s right.

Like many families, we were blended. Dad’s sons, John Dunbar Jr and David Dunbar, from his previous marriage to the beautiful Willie Daniel, were part of our and Patricia’s lives. She loved Johnny and David as part of our extended family. Having come from a family with a history of amicable divorce (her grandmother was twice divorced by 1930), Pat admired Willie and loved watching John and David grow up, find love, and build their own families.

In 1987, the Chicago Dunbars relocated to Richmond, VA, and Pat again plunged into making new friends and neighbors. She volunteered at the high school, drove us to practices and rehearsals, participated in bake sales and parent committees, and looked after the neighbors’ kids. In Richmond, she made lifelong friends in our little cul de sac of Windingridge Place, including her pal and dear friend, Karen La Forge, whose boys grew up with Pat playing watchful neighbor (and more than once providing late-to-school excuse notes from “Grandma Pat”, unbeknownst to their mom).

There were struggles, too. Patricia bore the grief of many losses, and she expressed sad amazement that she was the last living person of her own nuclear family. She was also open about living with anxiety disorder and occasional depression, a lifelong experience that bore not only stigma and a degree of shame, it benefitted little from any research or social, cultural understanding in her earlier life. This was another journey that she said made her more compassionate for others, more prone to think about what other people were going through. She taught us this compassion repeatedly - in her love for others and in the way she navigated her own darker times.

Among Pat’s many joys were her four-legged (plus two feathered) children, who benefitted wildly from her endless empathy and motherly pampering: Susie, Fritz, and little George, among others. In their ways, they buoyed her and brought us all companionship and laughter, not to mention eye-rolling responses from family and friends when Pat spoiled them. We imagine her reunited with them now, happily meandering about like a mad pack of joy.

Patricia chartered many rich years with us, her family and friends. College days, meals from neighbors, trips to the ocean, endless phone conversations at all hours, grieving months when we emptied family homes or apartments of those departed, and joyful, gathered holidays that now feel like precious jewels in our memories. Later in life, Pat got to know and love her sons’ spouses, Keri Coates Dunbar (wed to Colin) and Cory Smith (married to Bryant), both of whom she embraced and adored. The one constant for us all was Patricia’s love and laughter. She will be indescribably missed.

Pat is preceded in death by her husband, John Dunbar, her siblings David Johnson and Annette Johnson Fink, her parents Annette Goddard and Sam Johnson, and her second set of parents, her dear Uncle and Aunt, Alvin Brown and Judy Bryant Brown. She is survived by her son Bryant and his husband Cory, her son Michael Colin and his wife Keri, and by step-sons John Dunbar and his wife Carol, and their sons Brett and Jordan, and David Dunbar and his wife Penny, and their daughter Morgan.

If you would like to honor Patricia, please make a donation to your favorite charity in her memory. Or, simply do something kind for someone who may be struggling. Take a deep breath, laugh, and love deeply. She would love that.

Arrangements entrusted to Chicagoland Cremation Options in Schiller Park, Illinois.