My first memories of Pat bring warmth and comfort. I
remember visiting her with my dad as a very small child and her kind words
accompanied by a smile brought comfort to a very shy little girl. I remember
loving her baby boy who would eventually become my brother, as if he were my
own. It was easy to discover love in a home where I felt welcomed and appreciated.
Although my relationship with the woman who would become my
step-mother grew strained as I hit my teen years, I know much of the fault was
mine. I was difficult to love; yet Pat continued to welcome me into her home
and continued to profess her love for me. As I matured into a woman, I
appreciated Pat much more than I had as a child. I loved the happiness and care
she gave to my father. I will never forget how my dad looked at her and spoke
to her, especially as he was dying. One moment in particular stands out to me;
it was an opportunity that let me witness a demonstration of their unique bond.
Pat leaned over my dad’s hospital bed, and with her face inches above his, she
gently wiped away a strand of hair from his forehead and softly declared her
love for him—a man I knew from all of our lengthy conversations, she had loved
since she was 16 years old. Although
their journey back to each other was not without a few bumps and bruises, they
had an extraordinary bond, and for that I will always be extremely thankful.
I know I will forever hold fond memories of the stories Pat
told me about her youth. I enjoyed being transported back in time by her vivid
descriptions. I could almost feel the wind racing through my hair as she bolted
around a barrel on the back of her trusty steed. I felt the pain and wanting of
her injury from a horse fall that left her body broken. Her stories never
ceased to entertain, and through them I learned to love her more.
And who can forget Pat’s love for animals? She always knew I
was the person to call with a sympathetic ear when she had rescued yet another
stray. We shared a desire to protect the unprotected—God’s weakest, unlovable
creatures. In fact, it was the rescue of abandoned kittens shortly after our
dad’s death that brought her some joy and purpose. We united over more than one
wandering animal which would find its life blessed by Pat’s loving care.
I could share countless memories, impart words of wisdom I
received, and continue to dole out demonstrations of affection for a woman who
has shared much of the journey of my life with me. However, I know we do not
have the time. So the words I wish to express now I give perhaps as a
warning. Life is too short to let the
business of our days get in the way of speaking the words we need to say. You never know when that phone call may come.
Our days are numbered before they begin and every day should count for the
edification of others. I was given the chance by God’s grace to make the phone
call and speak all of the words I wished Pat to hear before she left this
earth. But we do not always receive such a chance. Choose today to make that phone call. Do not
assume that tomorrow will come and you may express your love then. The moment
is now.
When I asked my children to share their
memories of Grandma Thompson, I found that although they could not name a
specific time or place, they all could describe the way they felt whenever they
visited Grandma and Grandpa Thompson. It was a feeling of love and acceptance.
Grandma’s graciousness always ready to give them soda and cookies (like all
over indulgent grandparents). If I protested, Pat would look at me and firmly state,
“Oh, Kim, a little bit won’t hurt them,” as she would relinquish yet another
cookie or piece of candy. Indulgent…loving…protecting. I quickly realized how similar my children’s
memories were to mine. The grandma they knew was the same woman I remember from
the time I was a toddler, and I imagine the smiles they were so familiar with
were the same smiles that grace my memories. The warmth and comfort that
brought me out of my shell are the same feelings which they will treasure in
their hearts as they recall their Grandma and Grandpa Thompson.
Thank you, Pat. I know I didn’t make it easy and I am so
glad I grew to know and love you. You will be missed more than you could ever
imagine.