Ardath Janice (Phillips) Brough

Born on September 19, 1928, in Brownell, Kansas, Ardath was a Kansas farm girl through and through—rooted in strength, faith, and resilience. Growing up in Western Kansas during the Great Depression and Dust Bowl years, Ardath and her three brothers faced life’s hardships with grit and grace. Despite the struggles of losing their family farm, enduring dust storms, and the tragic loss of their beloved sister Ella May in 1932, Ardath always carried a heart full of hope and love. These early experiences shaped her into the compassionate, faithful, and strong woman that so many came to admire.

After graduating from Trego Community High School in WaKeeney, Kansas, in 1946, Ardath worked diligently to save for college and enrolled at Fort Hays University in 1948, with dreams of becoming a history teacher. It was there she met her first husband, Robert (Bob) Briscoe. The two moved to Kansas City, Missouri, where they lovingly raised their two children, Ted and Denise.

Ardath was a devoted homemaker and mother, and she also worked in retail. She poured her heart into everything she did—from volunteering in the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, to being a PTA room mother, a Picture Lady at Boone Elementary, and an active member of her church community. A lifelong Methodist, Ardath taught Sunday school for many years and played a vital role in the United Methodist Women groups at both Randolph Methodist Church and Terrace Lake Methodist Church. She had a gift for making others, especially young people, feel seen, heard, and loved.

After Bob’s passing, Ardath was blessed to find love again with John (Jack) Brough. Together, they spent twenty joyful years traveling, boating, fishing, serving in their church, and enjoying time with their ever-growing family.

Ardath had a creative spirit and a warm, generous heart. She found joy in quilting, sewing, crocheting, baking, and gardening. Her peanut butter pie, chocolate chip cookies, and Texas chocolate sheet cake were church bake sale favorites and treasured family recipes. In her younger years, she also bowled with the PTA and UMW and was remarkably good at it.

Fiercely independent, Ardath lived on her own for 17 years after Jack’s passing, only moving to Carnegie Village Assisted Living at the age of 94. Her family is deeply grateful to the staff at Carnegie Village for their compassionate care, and to the team at Residential Hospice for the comfort and dignity they brought her in her final days.

Ardath was preceded in death by her parents, Caleb and Lou Anges Phillips; her sister, Ella May Phillips; her first husband, Robert Briscoe; her second husband, John Brough; and her eldest brother, Darrell Phillips.

She leaves behind a loving legacy: her dear brothers, Willard Phillips (98) and Raymond Phillips (95); her children, Robert (Ted) Briscoe II (Cecelia) and Denise Rangel (Juan); her step-children, Dennis Brough (Pamela) and Jackie Hudgins (Allen); her grandchildren Jacob Gaynor (Sarah), Juan Rangel III, Robert Briscoe III, Joanna Fitzner (William), Catherine Briscoe (William Wiseman), Brett Briscoe, Daniel Brough, Kristin Brough, and Natalie Roberts (Chad); more than 18 great-grandchildren; numerous nieces, nephews, extended family, friends, and neighbors—all of whom were blessed by her love and wisdom.

Ardath’s life was a testament to faith, strength, and kindness. She will be deeply missed and forever remembered by all who had the honor of knowing her.

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Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NIV)

There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

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The Wind Remembers

In Kansas Prairie, where the tallgrass sways,

Beneath the vast and open skies,

The wind rolls on through golden days—

A hush between the hellos and goodbyes.

The fields remember every name,

Each whispered prayer, each final breath,

And yet the sun returns the same,

Warming life in the arms of death.

The grain still grows, the rivers bend,

The storms arrive, then pass on through.

The seasons never fear the end—

They simply start again anew.

So live like wind across the plains,

Unbound by fear, but rooted deep.

In joy, in sorrow, losses, gains,

Let memory wake while silence sleeps.

For Kansas teaches what we know:

That death is real, but never all.

The wheat will die—so it can grow.

The soul, like wind, won’t cease to call.