The Color of Family (46 page)

I will always remember the day she left Baltimore to return to New York. As she was sitting in the car, I leaned in, kissed her, and told her to hurry up and get better so Bettye and I could come
up to New York and go shopping with her on Austin Street. She never spoke, but looked at me as if she were looking at me for the last time. Sadly, it was. That look on her face is ingrained in my mind. Sometimes people leave us so quickly that we miss the chance to say the things we always wanted to say. If I could speak to Pat right now, I would tell her how very much I love her. I would tell her how proud I am of her and the things she accomplished in her short time here on earth. Finally, I would tell her how very difficult it is to be here without her.

Pat's spirit will live on in my heart forever. It will also live on in her daughter, Alexandra. I believe Alexandra will continue the work her mother was put on earth to do—to touch as many lives, even in a small way, as she can. That is what Pat did. There is a void in all our hearts that will never be filled because she is no longer with us. I will forever love, admire, and cherish her. She is, my sister, Pat.

Annette “Annie” Dodson

 

To Patricia My Sister, My Friend:

When I think about making a tribute to you my lovely sister, I think back to the time when you were a little girl and it was my responsibility to take you to school and pick you up. So sweet and so loving, you made sure that I always said good-bye to you as I left you on the school steps and that I made sure you had everything you needed. When I fell short of my commitment to you, you had the school call me at home to come back to say goodbye and to put your mittens in your book bag or pin them to your coat sleeve. Yet through all the things I had to do for you, as you grew up I can't begin to thank you for all the things you did for me. You always said things to me to make me laugh when I was sad. You helped me to understand my daughter in ways I couldn't at times.

For me, Gospel music has always been very soothing when I was troubled or sad. So, when I was troubled while you were struggling with the cancer fight, I always found songs to help me through. I remember giving you the tape with the song “My Help Cometh from the Lord.” It was this song that I felt would help you to hold on and know that God would bring you through. Although in a way he did take you out of your suffering,
it was not the way I wanted it to be. So sometimes when I hear this song it brings tears to my eyes because I had only hoped and prayed that the outcome would be different. However, we are so very blessed that we have a part of you still with us through your writings.

You have always been the center of this family. We always looked to you to make us laugh, and you always did. Even when you were very sick, you still said things that made us laugh. I admire your achievements: your strength, your resilience, your spirit and your ability persevere.

I regret never saying all the things that were in my heart on your last visit to Baltimore. You were so very concerned for Velma on that visit, and I can't help believing that you knew your fate even though we were hopeful that you were going to get better. I love you so very much and will always be here for your lovely daughter Alexandra; for she is so much like you and for us she will carry on your spirit. I miss you so much and know that I will see you again someday.

Love,
Bettye Pettiford
Your loving sister

This was how she autographed her book
Red on a Rose
for me. I cherish this sentiment with all of my heart because she was like a sister to me and she knew I felt the same about her. Within Pat was a never ending magnitude of infinite strength, wisdom and will. She loved strong and always wanted the same strength of love in return. Pat was like a volcano set up on a mountain of dreams and goals cut short as she poured over the top with success. Because of her success, I try to live my life with a passion like
she would have continued to do. Her philosophies in me will always live.

Love,
Mark (your nephew)

 

I was the last person to see Pat alive. That memory will stay with me for the rest of my life. I'd never been touched by death like that. I had to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation and heart massage before the medical people arrived. The only thing I could think of was “Could I have done more? Did I let her down?” Why was I the only one to have to do this?

From the time she came to live in New York, my relationship with Pat was one of reliance. Even though she was a very capable person, with extraordinary talent and drive, she came to rely on me to make things right. This was a comfortable relationship for both of us, because she made me feel larger than I was. Did I fail her in her final moments? I will always wonder.

Our last meaningful conversation before she started the sleep and pain regimen was about her wanting what other people took for granted…health and normalcy. I reminded her that if she received those things today, would she be what she had become? She smiled and understood that we are given what we are given and duration has nothing to do with contribution.

If I failed you Pat, I'm sorry. I did the best I could. Why was I the only one to do this? Because you relied on me to do what was best. I hope I didn't let you down.

Love always,
Ken Adams (your loving brother-in-law)

 

To my darling daughter Patricia:

When you were in middle school, you had the opportunity to travel abroad to Paris, and I knew then that you would be a world traveler. Then when you got to the 11th grade at Seton Keough, I was not prepared for what I had to face when you were diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease at the age of fifteen. Everything looked so bleak yet I stood by my faith that you would pull through. You
were able to make it to your junior prom, right at the beginning of your Chemotherapy treatments, and although you were so very thin, you truly looked beautiful. I became so sad and felt that God was not listening to me when you took a turn for the worse. You missed most of your twelfth grade and your senior prom. However, once again you persevered and were able to complete your last year of high school in conjunction with your first year of college at Morgan State. I was never so happy because it was a sign that we had beaten this dreaded cancer.

As you transferred to Boston University, graduated, and landed your first job with
Black Enterprise
, my initial thought of you being a world traveler came to fruition. You traveled to various parts of Africa, France and Italy, writing articles for the magazine. Oh what a joy that was for you to have that great life.

With your marriage and the birth of your daughter (Alexandra), I just knew that you would be around to see this lovely child grow to adulthood. Unfortunately, the demon of cancer struck again. This time I could not be there to hold your hand, rock you when you were in pain and just take care of you as I did before. Not having my sight and being much older did not give me the ability to do that. However, I stayed on my knees in prayer that you would progress as you did before. I feel that if I could have been there for you, with all the proper medical treatment you would still be here today. The hardest thing a mother has to do in life is to bury her child. I definitely was not prepared for that, but I do believe that you are in a better place. Watching you suffer as you did was far too difficult to bear. I love you so much as I often told you through your good and bad times, and I truly miss you. Your humor was infectious and your spirit astounding.

Love,
Mother

 

Pat's daughter was the most important person in her life. Patricia took so much time with Alexandra, teaching her, guiding her, playing with her, correcting her behavior when needed. Alexandra is the child she is today because of Pat. Pat and Alexandra played word games, spelling games, math games. They did so much together. Alexandra remembers her mother saying to her
“you are the most perfect thing I have ever made.” Alexandra and Pat had such a bond, that Pat lives on for Alexandra. Alexandra always talks of her mother in the present tense. She was never gone for her. During the year of her mother's illness, Alexandra had a difficult time understanding why her mommy could not do all of the things she once did with her, but she always sat and talked with her mother and tried to help her. Alexandra could be found often rubbing her mother's back when it hurt or rubbing her legs when they were swollen and aching.

She wrote the following after her mother's death:
“My mom is nice. My mom helps me when I'm sick. My mom goes shopping with me. My mom plays with me. My mom gives me math. And she is special.”
Alexandra had just turned seven when she wrote this, her mother having passed just before her birthday. Alexandra has a large collection of angels to remind her that her mother is in heaven and watching over her.

Today she writes:

 

My Mommy,

I love to write! I take a class called Creative Writing, and I wouldn't have taken the class if my mommy wasn't a writer. My mommy also came into my class when I was in kindergarten, twice. When she came I felt like blushing of happiness. When people looked at me, I smiled really big because it was my mommy up there, and not anybody else's.

My mommy was a really funny person, too, and it rubbed off in her writing. When my dad was reading
Passing
to me, I'll never forget her expression “ack, ack, ackalacky.” I'm not really sure what “ackalacky” means, but I smile whenever I think of it. A lot of times when I think of my mommy I'm sad, because she's not here, but a lot of times I'm happy—and I smile when I remember the things that she said, or did with me.

Love,
Alexandra Bacchus, age 8

For me, her sister Velma, Patricia was my best friend. It has been a difficult journey learning to live without Pat, yet I know that is
what she wants me to do. She always believed that life was to be lived. Patricia embraced life fully and tried to live each day with purpose. She was able to fulfill most of her dreams, some were left unfulfilled, but the larger dreams, the important goals were achieved. I do have the memories of the great times we shared as well as the sad or troubling moments we shared. Pat was so special because she had a deeper understanding of what is important in life than most of us ever have. She always believed that tomorrow was not promised so “live for today.” I always felt that she was in a hurry to live and accomplish her goals. Now as I look back, I understand that she never expected to live a long life.

Well, Pat you may not have lived a long life, but you did live a full life. I miss you so very much, but I know you are in a place where you are at peace. You have left a great legacy behind in your writing, your friends and family, but most importantly in your daughter.

Love you,
Velma

Patricia Jones passed away from lymphoma at the age of forty-two before this book was completed. With the help of family and friends who loved her, we were able to pull together Pat's notes on the novel and bring the book to publication.

We gratefully acknowledge all of those who helped with this truly inspiring effort: my mom, Pat's greatest source of comfort; sisters Bettye, Annette; brother, Tom; my son and Pat's nephew, who was more like a brother to her, Mark; my husband, Kenneth; Cousin Sylvia; my nieces and nephews, whose encouragement was endless; and her friends, who were so supportive of Pat and continue to offer support to the family, Millie, Debbie, and most of all, Daryl.

The publishing community who have supported Pat's career through three books: her literary agent, Eileen Cope of Lowenstein-Yost Associates, Inc.; her editor at Avon Books, Lyssa Keusch; and the talented HarperCollins Publicity, Marketing and Managing Editorial teams. As well, we'd like to thank Lou Aronica of Fiction Studio for helping to shape the manuscript.

Most of all, if Pat was writing this, she would like to single out Alexandra, her “Angel Girl,” about whom she often said, “You are the most perfect thing I have ever made.” Their bond of love will always be remembered and it will always be strong. Pat lives on in Alexandra.

 

Velma Adams
June 2004