Pamela Marie West

Pamela Marie West (Blake), 73, passed away on September 16, 2026, in Indianapolis, Indiana, surrounded by the family she loved so deeply.

To her family and friends, she was simply Pam, the name she preferred and the name by which she was known throughout her life.

Pam was born on November 22, 1952, in St. Charles, Missouri, to Edward and Dorothy Blake, who preceded her in death. She is survived by her brothers, Dennis Blake and Dale Blake.

For 54 years, Pam shared her life with her husband, Michael Dean West. Together, they built a life and a family that grew through children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. More than five decades of marriage brought everything a lifetime together can bring—love, laughter, challenges, disagreements, memories, and countless ordinary moments that, in the end, become some of the ones that matter most.

Pam was the loving mother of Stewart Michael West and Joseph Parker West.

Nothing meant more to Pam than her family, and to her, family was never limited simply by biology. Her grandchildren are Miranda Patricia Marie McClary, and her husband, Carter McClary; Savannah Nicole Elaine West, and her fiancé, Justin Wofford; Haleigh Ann Evelyn West; Hannah Bray-Plummer; Zoie Bates; and Conner Mossbarger.

Pam’s family also includes Stewart’s former wives, Jennifer “Jenny” West, Heather Bray, and Lorisa Bates-West, who are the mothers of Pam’s grandchildren. Although life and relationships changed over the years, each remained connected to Pam through the family they shared, and each will deeply feel the loss of her passing.

Pam was blessed to see yet another generation of her family grow. Her great-grandchildren are Parker McClary, Payton McClary, Peter McClary, and Price McClary, children of Miranda and Carter McClary, and Michael Dean Wofford, son of Savannah and Justin Wofford.

Pam was also blessed with a friendship that lasted more than three decades. About 35 years ago, while working at Spec Solution, she met her best friend, BEM. What began as a friendship between coworkers became a bond that lasted through the years and through all the changes life brought with it.

Pam and BEM talked regularly on the phone, keeping up with one another and sharing the everyday things that make a lifelong friendship so special. Whenever time allowed, they would get together and have lunch, enjoying the chance to sit down, talk, laugh, and simply spend time together. After 35 years, BEM wasn’t simply someone Pam had once worked with—she was Pam’s best friend and an important part of her life.

Anyone who knew Pam knew that she could be incredibly generous and incredibly stubborn—sometimes probably in equal measure. She was the kind of woman who would give someone her last dollar if she believed they needed it more than she did. But once Pam made up her mind about something, convincing her otherwise could be quite an accomplishment. Her family wouldn’t have had her any other way.

Pam loved crocheting, doing her nails, playing casino games on her phone, and going to the casino to play the penny slots. She also loved the movies Gone with the Wind and The Ten Commandments. She had a special love for snow globes and lighthouses, especially Disney snow globes. These were some of the simple things that brought her happiness and became unmistakable pieces of who she was.

Crocheting was especially meaningful to Pam because what she made often became something for the people she loved. She leaves behind an unfinished baby quilt she had been making for Michael Dean Wofford and Conner Mossbarger—one of those unfinished things that now carries a meaning no one could have imagined when she began it.

Sadly, there wasn’t enough time for Pam to teach Lorisa Bates-West, whom she lovingly called “the daughter I never had,” how to crochet. It was one more thing they thought there would be time for.

Pam also had a special talent for being an excellent passenger-seat—or backseat—driver, depending entirely upon where she happened to be sitting. If Pam was in the car, there was a pretty good chance whoever was behind the wheel was going to receive a little assistance, whether they had asked for it or not.

Pam never stopped being a mother, no matter how old her sons became. When Stewart was an over-the-road truck driver, traveling across the country for work, Pam insisted on having his iPhone location so she could make sure he was safe wherever the road took him.

Checking once apparently wasn’t enough. She might check his location three or four times in a single hour, all day long, every day—and then call Stewart and ask:

“Where are you?”

Stewart would sometimes remind her that she already knew exactly where he was because she had his location. But that was Pam. Knowing where her son was on a map wasn’t quite the same as hearing his voice and knowing for herself that he was okay.

Pam also adored hearing from her son Joseph. His responsibilities sometimes meant his visits were quick—often in and out before anyone was quite ready for him to leave—but Pam treasured hearing from him. And no matter how brief the visit or conversation might have been, she never forgot the words that mattered most:

“Love you.”

And then there was Pam and Michael. After 54 years of marriage, communication sometimes required a little creativity—especially because Michael was hard of hearing. When Pam was talking and Michael wasn’t paying attention or couldn’t hear what she was saying, she would get louder and eventually holler something along the lines of:

“Do I need to write it down on a dry-erase board for you to hear me?”

She never actually used one, but after 54 years together, the threat of the dry-erase board became one of those funny little moments that was simply part of Pam and Michael being Pam and Michael.

And while Pam certainly could cook, her family isn’t going to rewrite history and claim she was the woman spending every holiday in the kitchen preparing a giant family dinner. That simply wasn’t Pam—and she would probably be the first person to correct anyone who tried to say otherwise.

Those are the little things that made Pam unmistakably Pam: her generosity, her stubbornness, her crocheting, her nails, the penny slots, her favorite movies, her snow globes and lighthouses, the unsolicited driving instructions from whichever seat she occupied, checking Stewart’s location and then calling him anyway, the quick visits and “love you” with Joseph, and the threat of pulling out a dry-erase board when Michael couldn’t hear her.

Today those memories bring tears, but in time, her family knows many of them will bring smiles and laughter too.

Pam and Michael shared 54 years of marriage—a lifetime together. And in Pam’s final moments, as her family surrounded her, Michael remained beside the woman with whom he had shared more than half a century.

As Pam was passing, Michael continued telling her the words that perhaps best summed up those 54 years together:

“You are the love of my life.”

Those were among the final words of love Michael spoke to Pam as her family said goodbye. After 54 years together, through everything that life had brought them, Michael wanted her to know one more time what she had always been to him—the love of his life.

After 73 years of life, Pam leaves behind far more than can ever be captured in an obituary. She leaves behind stories that will continue to be told, handmade pieces she crocheted, an unfinished quilt that will forever carry her memory, snow globes and keepsakes that will mean more now than they ever did before, photographs that will become even more precious, laughter, inside jokes, and countless ordinary moments that suddenly don’t seem ordinary anymore.

Most of all, she leaves behind a family that exists because of a life she helped build.

Pam’s absence will be deeply felt by her husband, her sons, her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren, her brothers, her best friend BEM, Stewart’s former wives Jenny, Heather, and Lorisa, her extended family, and everyone fortunate enough to have known and loved her.

Pam will be cremated, and her family will gather for a Celebration of Life on Monday, September 21, 2026, from 1:00 to 3:00 p.m. at Grace Church, 5504 E. 146th Street, Noblesville, Indiana 46062.

The gathering will be extremely casual, just as the family wants it to be. Those attending are asked not to dress up. Come comfortable, come as you are, and join Pam’s family in remembering the 73 years of life, love, laughter, stubbornness, family, and memories that came before September 16.

She was a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, a sister, a best friend, and a woman who would give you her last dollar. She was generous. She was stubborn. She was funny. She was completely herself.

Most importantly, she was ours.

And she will be loved, remembered, and missed for the rest of our lives!