Patricia Stallings

Patricia Lankin Stallings, of Brewster, MA, passed away after a long and painful illness. Throughout her adult life she suffered both physically and emotionally from PTSD. Yet she lived a valiant life of love, kindness, generosity, and friendship, and always remained grateful for her life.

Tricia had a deep, abiding, and good humored affection for our animal companions, as well as wildlife, and concern for their welfare was an inspiration for many people. She published many articles in defense of and in praise of animals, and actively supported animal shelters and animal welfare organizations.

Tricia loved Cape Cod and she and her husband fulfilled a long-held dream when they were able to move to Cape Cod permanently, settling in Brewster in 1991. Unfortunately, the couple moved in just one week prior to Hurricane Bob, not having the best initiation into life on the Cape. Tricia had many friends and was liked and respected by everyone she met. Tricia loved classical music, art museums, and especially the theater.

Tricia earned an M.S. in psychiatric nursing from Boston University. In addition to her work as a counselor, Tricia was for a number of years floor nursing supervisor at McLean Hospital, then and still one of the top private psychiatric hospitals in the country. She was then nursing supervisor for the entire nursing staff at the Massachusetts Mental Health Center, at the time one of the top public psychiatric hospitals in the country.

Later, Tricia became a freelance writer, whose articles were published in numerous newspapers and magazines in the U.S. and the U.K.

Tricia was married for 53 years to William Stallings, and they never spent a night apart in all that time. Bill was able to keep Tricia in her beloved home during her final years, and was with her as she slipped from this earth.

Tricia is also survived by her brother Michael Lankin, of New Lebanon, NY, his daughter, Kate and his granddaughter, Addison.

We were so wholly one I had not thought

That we could die apart. I had not thought

That I could move,—and you be stiff and still!

That I could speak,—and you perforce be dumb!

I think our heart-strings were, like warp and woof

In some firm fabric, woven in and out;

Your golden filaments in fair design

Across my duller fibre. And to-day

The shining strip is rent; the exquisite

Fine pattern is destroyed; part of your heart

Aches in my breast; part of my heart lies chilled

In the damp earth with you.

—Edna St. Vincent Millay