We didn’t get as many outings as we could have—we can blame life for that. Either you were battling something, or I was. Yet, you were ever patient and understanding if it was my issue while at the same time being ferociously determined to get back on your own two feet and back into life yourself with yours.
Our early days were a bit shaky, and we had a few years where we struggled. That day in the solicitor’s office as a new wife, I sensed your fear that this newcomer into the family might put the whole estate at risk if things didn’t work out.
And I floundered as I tried to work out how to fit into your family while you found it even harder learning how to share your only child, your son, with me not knowing yet then if I was at all worthy of this privilege.
I cannot lie, it was always easy to sense how you felt—your body language saying more than words ever could. Yet when harsh words were spoken, your grace and forgiveness and willingness to mend what was broken brought a new understanding and respect for each other that only hard times can bring.
Then came your first grandchild, then another, and then another . . . and your heart began to soften even more. You stood back and waited as we got busy with our own new family, and yet, you cherished any moments we could spend with you.
You graciously gave up every Christmas, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, and Easter Sundays with us, allowing us the freedom to spend it however we chose—that must have been incredibly hard for you, yet you never complained or blamed.
The health battles you faced and beat were more than anyone else I know, yet your this won’t beat me attitude was such an inspiration, and my admiration for you grew enormously each and every time.
Not the least of all, the loss of your dear soul mate and husband of 60 years, leaving you bereft, heartbroken, and alone, yet never beaten. The way you handled his passing and all that entailed floored me. Your energy and determination to do all that you could independently and yet keep moving forward through life, despite ongoing health challenges was, without a doubt, something I’ve never witnessed before in another human being.
And when your first and only great-grandchild arrived, your joy and zest for life and eagerness to spend time with your family that now only encompassed your only son and his family, seemed to go to new levels.
I loved going to the movies with you, taking you to and from appointments, and dining out as a family—something you loved immensely. And our trips for family visits will always remain especially etched in fondness for me.
I will miss my second mom, for that is who you became to me, as mother-in-law doesn’t do justice to the closeness we reached
I’ll miss all the amazing chats we would have on our long car rides, your texts that always began with “Dear Deb” and ended with “Lots of Love ❤️ Pat,” and your love, support, and encouragement to our children that was evident right up to the end
So, my Dear Pat, I promise to keep your son and our children and your great-grandchild’s well-being priority, and try to be there for them even when they really actually might need you (especially Peggy Sue, your best-feathered friend). I will do my best with you as my inspiration, with your generous heart, the fullness of gratitude, and loving acceptance you gave us all.
Your,
Dear Deb
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page