Remembering Patti

I’m still overwhelmed by sadness when I remember Patti, my good friend and business partner in my real estate business. But, even though I’m grieving, I can’t keep from smiling when I think about Patti’s laughter and her loyalty and her many kindnesses.

I’ve been thinking about Patti constantly since she died earlier this month. She died too young and too fast, only a couple of months after she was diagnosed with cancer.

Patti came to my home office frequently, and we would work together all afternoon or all evening on new listings or sales.

Whenever she came through the door, she brought her light and laughter with her. She teased me and admonished me gently with a smile.

“There you go again,” Patti would say when I was trying to work and take care of my mother. “You’re trying to do too much. You can’t do everything. Set some limits.”

Then, she would laugh, and I would laugh—because she was a very good friend and what she was saying was true. I knew that she cared about me and that she would do more than her share so that I could spend more time with my mother.

Patti was always a loyal friend, and I knew that I could count on her. I called her when it became obvious that my mother would die soon.

“I’m falling apart,” I said. “I don’t know what to do about mama’s insurance or what to tell the doctors.”

Patti came immediately and took charge, listening and giving me specific instructions about what I needed to do. “The first thing you can do is call your niece,” she said. “The one who is a lawyer and C.P.A.”

When my daughter, Ranna, had her first surgery, Patti showed up at the hospital with a stuffed monkey with “Get Well Soon” embroidered on its stomach and two balloons.

Last year when Ranna was in the hospital, Patti brought me a supply of Crystal Light lemonade because she knows how much I like to drink it. She often gave me small presents—a bottle of lotion or sample of a new kind of makeup that she was trying.

The last time she came to my home office, she wrote in big letters on a piece of paper and then put it on the top of a huge stack of other papers on my messy desk. “Best friend ever,” she wrote.
Patti was a best friend, and I miss her laughter and her loyalty and her kindness.

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