Pat Vallerand

It seems as though I just saw you a few days ago and we chatted about birds, gardening, the weather, whatever. But physically you are gone. I can’t think of you without crying, which surprises me.

When Sylvia shocked me with the news of your sudden death, I was dumbfounded. Not possible.

You touched so many different pockets of people in this world that I am a mere grain of sand that has been rocked by your untimely death.

Yet I am rocked just the same. I remind myself that there are lessons in deaths if I pause long enough to listen to the breeze, the birds, the voices and whatever else talking.

My mom’s death in 1972 taught me that people die suddenly and I better appreciate those beings in my life. Barbara Clinton’s death, my God Mother, reminded me in my complacency.

In retrospect, Pat taught me to appreciate life and let go of negative things as soon as possible. Maybe Pat learned that lesson after losing her sister to the same thing that abruptly took Pat, an aneurysm, her sister was quite a bit younger might have propelled Pat to make the most of her time.

Yesterday, while mucking in the muddy garden, weeding and planting onions, I felt Pat the Master Gardener next to me. If I can experience her presence again, I will be in the garden a lot this season waiting.

Thank you Pat for touching so many lives and to continue doing so.

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