The Loss of a Lifelong Friend
In the final days of last year, my mom’s best friend, a woman who has been a constant in my life since I was a child, passed away after being ill for around a year. Other than my grandparents, she’s the first person I was particularly close to who has died.
Since she got COVID at the beginning of last year, and spent the rest of the year in and out of the hospital, I didn’t get the chance to visit with her in the last year of her life. This distance has made her passing all the more difficult to process.
Tribute candles set up at our family-friend Patti’s service.
From childhood vacations spent with her family and mine, working together while I was a substitute teacher at my old elementary school, being driven to my first date ever (which was a truly terrible date with her son), or weekly Taco Tuesday indulgences complete with several margaritas and great gossip, many of my core memories include her. I’m extremely lucky to have known her, and generally lucky to have a mom who is a part of such a thriving community. I didn’t realize it as a child, but my sister and I truly were raised by a village of strong, capable, independent women.
This community of women was around to take us to school or soccer practice when my parents weren’t able. They were there to cheer me on at games or hype me up before school dances. They were there to support me when I was making the difficult decision to go to college on the other side of the country. When I was struggling with insecurity and a lack of self-esteem disguised as boy troubles, I had an entire group of women I felt comfortable going to and discussing it with. Though I didn’t spend every day of my life relying on these women the way I do on my parents, there’s no denying that the knowledge that they were there in my corner, ready to support me in whatever way I might need, was an incredible privilege. They are an essential part of the foundation that allows me to feel secure enough to take some risks in life and embrace who I am, something I hope to encourage more people to do.
My relationship with Patti in particular was unique. As my mom’s best friend, she was the closest to me of the women in my mom’s community. She was a strong, stubborn woman. I often refer to her as the most stubborn person I’ve ever met and I know a lot of stubborn people. I won’t pretend that knowing her was always rainbows and sunshine.
We didn’t always agree on things. In fact, many of those Taco Tuesdays would turn into heated debates about gun control, reproductive rights, or the true purpose of education - pretty heavy topics. We always had a similar baseline view, but would get wrapped up in the small differences of opinion between us. In truth, I don’t think there’s anyone I’ve disagreed with so often who I still loved and considered a friend. Through my relationship with her, I practiced the important skill of having disagreements with someone, but still respecting and loving them.
Even if I was feeling sore after one of our discussions, I’d still be eager to see her at Taco Tuesday the next week or to spend summer vacation with her and her family floating together in inflatable rafts on the Colorado river. We even learned to apologize to each other, something that wasn’t easy for either of us, if our debates got out of hand.
Through spending a good 17 years of my life getting to know her, first as a child, and then as a relative equal - she had a knack for using her age to claim she was right about things by default - I learned more and more about her incredible, beautiful, tragic story. From amazing potential, forgotten dreams, a full heart, a quick smile, a fantastic sense of humor, and a tragic death that’s all too common these days, she’s made me keenly aware of the potential (for creativity, deep understanding of society, and sensational artistic careers) people have that they end up unable to realize due to life’s obstacles.
I like to think that discussions with me, even when we disagreed, provided her a glimpse into a different kind of life than the one she lived. She often said that my sister and I were the only people she could talk to about certain things, especially the big questions. I think she got a thrill from having these intense intellectual discussions and looking at the world in a way that’s not very common where we live. Knowing the things she was capable of but never got the chance to do because her life was cut short has renewed my determination to do those things myself. I’m going to chase my dreams head-on, continue learning and growing and accomplishing big things that other people (and even Patti) have said are impossible. I’m going to craft a magnificent life for myself, despite life’s obstacles, and bring others along with me as best as I can, in her honor.
