Katherine “Kate” Ghio
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Kate Ghio, age 66, died peacefully on October 31, 2019 of ALS. Katherine Anne Ghio was born on May 5, 1953 in St. Louis, Missouri. She was the daughter of Rosemary Brennan Ghio and James Edward Ghio. Kate grew up in Kansas City, Missouri. She attended Hickory Grove and Border Star schools. In 1972, Kate graduated from the Sunset Hill School with distinction and perfect attendance for all four years. It amused her that she was voted “Most Improved” at her 20th class reunion. Kate earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in printmaking from Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1976. She spent 18 years at Hallmark designing greeting cards, many of which featured cute cats. Kate became a preschool teacher in 1997. It was her second career and a path which brought her immeasurable joy. She taught at the Berkley Child and Family Development Center for 12 years. In 2011, Kate received a master’s degree in curriculum and instruction, with a concentration in early childhood, from the University of Missouri – Kansas City. She retired in 2015. Kate’s years at Berkley brought her the most cherished contacts and learning for which she was grateful. Kate was predeceased by her parents; her stepmother, Jean Campau McGregor Greaves Ghio; and her stepdaughter and daughter of the heart, Terra Amanda Gross Patterson. Kate’s survivors include her brother, James Stephen Ghio; her stepsister, Mary Greaves Hodge and her husband, Dr. Charles Hodge V; her stepbrother, Donald Critchfield “Critch” Greaves, Jr. and his wife, Dawn; her seven nieces and nephews; Megan Geherin, and her husband, Patrick, Thomas Greaves, Caroline, Chase, and Lissy Hodge, and Adam and Ryan Widmer; and her cat, Zeke K. Featherman. She is also survived by her former husband, Paul Gross; and her stepson, Jesse Gross, as well as Bit and Zibby. In addition, her extended family includes her aunt, Sr. Nancy Ghio, her uncle, Fr. John Ghio, Janet and Ken MacGregor, the Brennan Cousins, Julie H, Reilly, Martha Harbaugh, Jan Warner and Tom Warner. Kate wanted to extend her loving thanks to “everyone who walked me home. My brother and family, Alan, Janet, Hilary and Dave, Jack and Hayley, Seasi, Wally, Calvert, Rhonda, Ann, Louise, Courtney, the 51st Street Book Club, Esther, Gary, Katie Taylor, Pam, Katy & Don, Robin and Mary, Randy, Jennifer, Margot, Susan, Leah, Karen Williams and Jason. I would like to thank the loving caregivers from Hospice, Shana, Michelle, and Mary and from Right at Home, Madison and Aliyah. Your kindness and care have made this transition safe and loving.” Kate was a talented artist and a lover of coffee and, of course, cats. (Kate always thought of Meatball, the cat who lived with her when she was a child, as her first husband.)
In lieu of flowers, contributions to Great Plains SPCA are suggested: www.greatplainsspca.org/donate/ or 5424 Antioch Drive, Merriam, KS 66202. A celebration of life will be held at Lidia’s 101 w 22nd St KCMO 64108 on November 7th from 3-5pm.
Visits: 4
The story of Kate’s life includes the phrase, “sister of the heart.” Although we were not kin, I always experienced Kate as a sister of the heart. There was a kind of deep, caring mischief about her, an almost elfin sense of delight and wit and wisdom that always marked as “an old soul,” a person who saw into the essence of things, somehow, whether it was a work of art or a child’s sense of play or just a conversation across a table, among friends. As she came to the last chapter of her life, an unsurprising depth of courage also emerged from that swirl of aspects, a strength of character that we all knew lay beneath her twinkling presence. She lit up a room, even then. She brought sincerity and intelligence to any encounter and she could make you laugh, well and truly, at how “wondrous strange” it can be to be human. Now she’s at rest, God bless her, and we have been blessed to have her with us for a time.
So many children and families were blessed by Kate’s loving touch. She always had the best interests of the children at heart and she respected, valued and listened to children. The early childhood community mourns this huge loss. And I will miss important conversations, her gentleness, selflessness, quiet inner peace and strength, and compassion for others. I learned alot from you, Kate, but still have a ways to go… Thank you for sharing a small piece of your journey with me.
Every now and then, you come across a special person. One who was not only wise beyond her years, but was also creative and selfless. Kate was one of those special people. She enriched the lives of the children she shared a classroom with. She was their teacher but also a child at heart and was able to develop a special connection with the children.
Thank you God for bringing Kate into our lives when our children were young. We cherish our many fun memories of that time.
Please comfort those who are grieving her passing.
Oh, Kate. How do I describe your impact on me with just words? I’ll miss you so much until we meet again. I’m so glad to have taught with you and walked with you during our years at Berkley. One of my favorite memories was when we were eating outdoors at Oak in Boulder, CO. You had that amazing dessert floating in a red fruit sauce. You told Becky and me, “Ladies, I am going to lick this plate.” And you did! What a zest for life! Love you, Friend
Kate was my high school classmate, although we never knew each other well. But by chance, we had the good fortune to reconnect a couple of years ago, and I am forever grateful for that opportunity. Glad to know Katie is finally at peace, after having displayed such remarkable courage these past few years. May God bless her soul.
I was Kate’s English teacher at Sunset Hill School during her junior and senior years. I remember her fondly as a bright, talented, serious, witty student. I cherish a drawing she gave me (probably made surreptitiously during English class!) of Eve–whom she depicted as a voluptuous ingenue. Kate and I had a good catch-up talk via telephone (thanks to our mutual friend Janet Patzman) this summer. Since then, I was sending her each day a photograph of a favorite piece of art, a passion we both shared. The last time I heard from her was the day before she died, when I sent her a portrait by Amy Sherald, the official portraitist of Michelle Obama. Kate responded with an emoji of a heart.
Kate, we will miss you greatly. I didn’t know how I put a word to your passing when I learned it last Friday. It seemed not long ago when I dropped my son to you in the Berkley, I knew he was in a good hand. In particular, your kindness was greatly appreciated, it eased me every day. We were lucky to have you in our life and in our heart, I wish you could hear me saying that. If you still have a sense of humor, please strike a signal from the top that you hear me.
Kate was my cousin and I will remember her forever. We both shared a love of cats (at one point we mused about making a cat movie…) She really was an old soul who could – and did – relate to pretty much everyone at a very human and understanding level. I was always impressed that she never talked down to children, including me. Me and my family will miss you, Kate.
I learned more facts about my cousin Kate’s life in her obituary than from Kate herself. When we were kids, she and her family lived in Kansas City and me in St Louis. We met once as kids but I don’t remember anything about that meeting. And she was a question asker more than a question answerer.
In the past few years, we ‘found’ each other but our conversations were all about today – How is Zeke (her cat) or Maggie & Murphy (my cats)?, What are you reading? What do you think about God? She never missed humor no matter how subtle, she never was snarky about people both inside her sphere or outside and I always felt better about being a human being after talking to her than before. With human beings like her, there is hope for this sad old species.
In our last conversation, I desperately wanted her to stay longer but also recognized the need for her to go-her need for her to go. It was hard to give permission because I knew the hole she would leave in the positive good of the Universe. She took me around her dear house and every item in every room had a story. She was a wonderful teller of stories – true to the Irish tradition in which she was born. And that is the Kate I knew, I learned – the one that had pieces of all the people in her life, all the cats in her life, all the days in her life – and she loved them and held them dear.
So will I – moving forward – I will hold life and those who are in mine dear because that is what I learned from Kate – suit up, show up, participate, don’t leave a ring around the bathtub and leave everyone a bit better for having known you. When I think of my cousin Kate, I will remember all these pieces of her life and I will smile.
Was just trying to look up my old friend Kate. What a shock. I knew Kate during her days at CMU. She was one in a million. Have never forgotten her and never will!
Dearest Kitty Kate
I think of you always. Especially when the lilacs bloom. Everyone has their special time with you. Me too. Thanks for reading that story to me. Always good to hear your voice. Happy to share it – —- you’re only a cat away. Dang. “Thai-Anne”