Almost two months ago now we lost my wonderful mother in law Patsy.
She was an amazing and loving woman. She would do anything for anyone. She loved to laugh, particularly at Andy.
She loved Diet Coke and McDonalds. She loved tomatoes and always offered Chris and I some even though we don’t like tomatoes, probably hoping that if we tasted a really good one that we would change our minds about them.
She loved yard sales and consignment shops. She always arrived with some sort of little gift just to let you know that she’d been thinking of you, and because of that we always had seasonal hand towels and scented hand soap.
She had a collection of tupperware that would boggle your mind. She had ziplock bags in every size and option possible. She would be sending leftovers home with you.
She loved golden retrievers and she took in stray cats. She fed the birds and the hummingbirds, and loved to talk about her most recent deer sightings.
You might have heard her complain about bad refs, or Bullit East fans, or other such nonsense, but she would never complain about the hand that she had been dealt. She endured various treatments for various cancers for over a decade, but she held her head high. She focused instead on her faith, her Lord, her kids, her grandkids, her loved ones. She was always dropping off food to someone else.
It’s funny when someone passes away how you want to think about their life or their place in yours in broad terms, like “she was so loving.” But I don’t want to forget the collaboration of all of the little things that make such statements true, and the things that were so Patsy. Like how she got the kids peeps in every color at Easter time. How, the first time that I went on vacation with their family, she was so appalled by the fact that I hadn’t had a pedicure for the occasion (or ever, for that matter) that she insisted that we go to Walmart right away so that she could plop me down in the little nail salon and make things right. How she would drive a few hours at the end of long work days to support kids and grandkids in their games, whether they were playing or coaching. How she would keep the fridge in the garage stocked with your favorite soft drink, just in case.
She was so loved and is missed every day in one hundred little ways, which are probably the big ways.
We love you Patsy. XO