The Color of Family (45 page)

She was always so very friendly and developed special relationships with people. My husband, Sylvan, took off from work one day to go to her junior high school for career day. The two of them had a special bond because of her outgoing nature. During her illness, she visited Maryland many times. We visited her often at her mother's house.

One time, while she was undergoing chemotherapy, she was pulling out her hair and Sylvan told her to stop. She said that her hair was going to come out anyway and that she would just wear a wig. They both laughed. Her sense of humor was always present. Sylvan drove himself to visit Pat before she returned to New York. They were both courageously fighting cancer. Pat had a book reading at Enoch Pratt Library, the main branch in Baltimore, and recited several passages beautifully. Once again she was courageous, friendly, outgoing and professional at this event. I remember the last time I saw her at a book signing in Owings Mills Mall in Baltimore. She wasn't feeling well, but with her usual sense of professionalism and friendliness, she kept her obligation. Pat had a dream of being a writer. She accomplished her dream when so many don't. She couldn't be stopped. Pat did it her way, and she was a success. Words that describe Pat are friendly, persevering, joyful, outgoing, professional, stylish and very humorous.

Love you,
Sylvia, your cousin

 

My Dearest Pat,

What words can I say to express my love for you? I live every day with fond memories and regrets. Memories of your visits to Baltimore, my trips to New York, letters written, pictures taken; regrets of never spending enough time with you, and choosing to hang with my friends instead of my family. My greatest regret is never saying goodbye. On your final visit to Baltimore, I knew it was going to be your last, but for some reason, I couldn't let you go. I relied on faith to pull you through again. I was selfish. I was angry when you died. There were so many things I never got to tell you.

I have always admired you for your free spirit, your charisma, your dedication and commitment to your family, and the way
you never hesitated to speak your mind. I will never forget the life-altering decision I made in the eighth grade. I never told you this, but you were a very intricate part of my healing. You always made me feel pretty when I felt ugly. I will always remember when you told me I had to love and accept myself to love and respect others. I will never forget that. When I was lost and confused, it was you who told me to write down all of the goals and aspirations I had for myself, put them in my favorite Bible verse and never open to that page again until I accomplished my missions in life. For that, I am eternally grateful. For that, I never gave up and I always persevered.

On my twenty-third birthday, I confidently opened to that Bible verse, as I had finally met the ideals set forth for myself. This Bible verse is the center of my wedding and will always remain close to my heart because of you. I love therefore I can love. I miss the crazy healthy food you always made, your timeless sense of humor, your remarkable smile, and the clothes that you made me, but above all, I miss you. You helped me to realize that my family should always be my #1 priority. As far as Alexandra is concerned, I will always be there for her, just like you were there for me. I will never leave or forsake her. I thank you for watching over me and protecting me, for helping me through hardships and for your angelic visits. I hope you are proud of me for the woman I have become. You are truly one of a kind, you are timeless, priceless, and I will never forget you.

Love,
Miss Kelley, your loving niece

Keith Pettiford

 

Dear Pat,

I wake up some mornings and I hear your sweet voice, then I look at my son (Justin Randall Patrick) and remember what an inspiration you were to all. This is why my son has your name. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with you but the times that were shared were cherished ones, like talking about shoes and the new books that were out. Then there is Kayla who asks about you and how your boo boo is doing. I tell her that Aunt Pat is OK and she's better than she's ever been.

Love, Chenelle, Kayla, and Justin

 

If there was one thing I remember about Pat, it was her energy. She loved to EAT and it never slowed her down. When she would visit, you had to make sure you had enough snacks for her because she would eat all night. She always told it like it was, very real and straight to the point. Never had any qualms about telling a person how she felt. She's had life experiences like none other. She told some hilarious stories about her life in New York. Pat also was a dynamite clothes maker who wore her own creations. She made children's clothes for her daughter to wear as well. Writing was her love and putting out three books was just the tip of the iceberg for her. If only she had the time to enjoy her success. I was so honored to be at the signing of her first book, and to see the crowd that gathered around her to have their book signed is something you could only dream about. And that was her dream. She was a talent.

Pat I love you and I miss you.

Derek (your loving nephew)

 

“Me and my Pat—went to the zoo—we saw so many animals it wasn't too soon…with my Pat, my Pat, my Pat and my Pat….” That was our song Pat. One of my favorite parts of growing up was spending every summer with you in New York. It was like hanging out with my big sister, best friend, and mother all in one. We shared so much—my first Broadway play, the Zodiac Killer, subway rides in the dark, and all of Central Park's weirdoes. I miss you so much. Sometimes it feels like you are still in New York and I will see you at Christmas. Then Christmas comes and reality sets in that you are gone. But I know you are still the same ole Pat, crazy, fun, and colorful as ever—just in a different place. You will never be forgotten and I love you.

Love always,
Your Beanie (Kenya, your loving niece)

A Vision of Loveliness

by Erin Dodson

 

Dear Pat,

You came to me in a vision the night before I went to see you at the funeral home. A light shined through my door that was so bright. You were wearing orange, your favorite color. You spoke to me and said, “Erin, it's ok.” The very next day, I went to see you at the funeral home. You were wearing the same orange out-fit you were wearing in my vision. It didn't scare me. I was honored that you chose to come to me. All I can say is you are greatly missed. Your humor, your charm, and definitely your unique style are all a part of what make you so special. It is hard to accept that you are gone. Always know that you will forever
live on in my heart and my memories of you. I love you, though we didn't say it much.

Love forever,
“Lady Erin”

 

Thoughts on a Life

Asked to reflect upon my Aunt Pat's life by delivering some words, I ran across a quote I squirreled away by a woman named Gail Sher. She said: “Writers write. Writing is a process. You don't know what your writing will be like until the end of the process. If writing is your practice, the only way to fail is not to write.” While I'm not a professional writer, this quotation's relevancy for me and my life is fast. Whatever it is you do, your biggest failure is to fail to do it. To make excuses. The bravery my aunt showed to do what she loved, despite difficult circumstances, represents the inspiration that my aunt has had on my life through living her own.

Writing this reflection is difficult. It feels like going through an old trunk of pictures in an attic of filed away thoughts, sorting, distilling, editing, organizing, and eventually, composing a story, an account, that one could follow to a better understanding of the inspiration that Pat represents. I can only imagine what writing a novel is like. There's so much bravery in simply putting pen to paper, but much more in living. Despite having all the issues that make her a normal human being and some many never experience, Pat both lived and wrote very well. In defiance to her tragic living circumstances, she continued to pursue her writing. As a part of her family, it does not matter to me whether she sold five books or five million. I'm simply happy and inspired that she did something that she really wanted to do. So many people go through life without a book to publish, leaving their families to store only the old “photos” of their memory in each person's own personal attic sometimes never to be sorted through. Her real accomplishments are her growing daughter and the wonderful memories I have of her.

The eastern tome, the
Tao Te Ching
, says that “If one fully understands the present moment, there is nothing else left to do and nothing left to pursue.” Forty-two years, two months, two days is indeed a lifetime; for some, less and for others, more. No one on
earth is guaranteed another day. O how important it is to live life—I mean, really live it. When looking back on the wake of a soul one can only hope to have lived the present moment fully by being one with the things that really matter. My aunt did. She loved her family. She told her story. She raised her daughter. She made her way. She dealt with life. She did so much. And…she did it all graciously.

The way I'll always remember Pat is that when she walked down the street her smile and her inner beauty would illuminate the way.

Love,
Chris, your nephew

 

My memories of Pat are many, but one stands out more because it reflects the person Pat was. I was supposed to pick Pat and Alexandra up from the train station. I got there early so I would be able to be down on the tracks to help her with the bags. I went down as the train came in and Pat did not get off. I went back to the station to find that there were two trains coming from New York but only one listed. The other train appeared on the board. I ran to go down to the platform and saw Pat, dragging the bags and holding onto the railing. She looked so helpless but was still climbing the stairs. I finally got a wheelchair and took her to my car. That was an experience that I will never forget. She was such a courageous woman. I love you.

Love,
Tom, your brother

My Pat

How do I begin to put into a few words just how wonderful and special she was? She was beautiful, inside and out. She was caring, loving, witty, whimsical, and wise. She was a daughter, a mother, an aunt, a cousin, and a friend. She was my sister and her name was Patricia.

Patricia was on loan to us from God for forty-two years. He put her here as his special angel to touch the lives of the people whose paths she crossed. Everyone who knew her loved her. Everyone who met her saw the beauty in her heart. They saw the beauty that
was Pat. In the short time Pat was with us, she accomplished so many wonderful things. She traveled the world by herself, never giving it a single thought. She met many interesting people. She wrote numerous articles for various magazines and three novels. She was never afraid to try something new. Pat did things that many of us would only dream of doing. This is what made Pat so unique and special. I admired Pat for her whimsical nature. When she decided to move from Baltimore to New York, we all were amazed. In her 15 or so years in New York, she moved so many times that I never entered her address in my book in pen, because I knew she would suddenly decide she needed a change and move.

Her most endearing quality to me that I will always remember was her wit. We would be dying of laughter, as she would regale us with stories of her many adventures in New York. She always had a story to tell. She would say such funny things that, at times, we could not stop laughing. I remember one instance where we were all sitting around the kitchen table and Pat was telling us about a celebrity whose house caught fire and burned to the ground. I kept asking her how the fire started. Finally, after the third time I asked her, she swung around in the chair and retorted, “I don't know! Her cat was smoking in bed!” We laughed for hours about that. That was classic Pat.

I miss the fun we always had when she was in Baltimore or when I was in New York. I miss her beautiful smile. I miss the Saturday mornings when I would pick up the phone and hear, “Annie, what are you doing?” Simply stated, I miss Pat.

We watched Pat suffer through her bouts with cancer three times. Each time was so very difficult for us all. It was hard to see someone so wonderful suffer the way she did. But each time she went through it, she never let it break her spirit. She faced it head on with the confidence that she would beat it. This third time, however, was the most difficult for her. No one knew, but it was evident in the end that Pat had made her peace with God and accepted her fate. As for the rest of us, we were totally in denial. We couldn't face the reality of the situation. Just the thought of living our lives without Pat was frightening.