— Remembering Pat
❤️ I hardly knew Pat.
👉 Pat and her husband, Don, started attending our church around the same time my late husband and I did. We were all newcomers—outsiders in a community with its own rhythm. We had a few chances to talk with Don after church, but Pat, due to her ongoing health issues, was rarely there. She remained a quiet presence in the background, and I never got the chance to get to know her.
🥲 Then, my world was shattered. When my husband died suddenly, I was overwhelmed with grief, drowning in a sea of questions and sorrow.
📌 No church leaders reached out to me.
📌 However, Don called during the storm to ask if he and Pat could visit. I agreed, unsure of what to expect. Pat arrived with an oxygen tank, frail but determined. Despite her own pain, her prayers showed unwavering faith—powerful and deeply rooted. Amid my chaos of pain, I struggled to understand God’s plan and reconcile my grief with the belief I’d always known. Yet Pat’s quiet strength left an indelible impression on my heart.
In those moments, I saw Pat for the second time, not as a frail woman battling illness, but as a mighty prayer warrior. Don and Pat visited me twice, and each time, their prayers weren’t just words—they were a lifeline.
📍 This summer, I went to the Bay Area to work on a book God tasked me with writing. One morning, while struggling with the toughest chapter, grief hit me all over again. I burst into tears, feeling stuck. Just then, in what seemed like divine timing, Don and Pat called to check on me. Their call was a gift of grace, giving me encouragement exactly when I needed it most.
✴️ After I got home, I was so moved by their kindness that I invited them to lunch, eager to thank them in person before my Thanksgiving trip. Don told me that Pat wasn’t feeling well and suggested we meet after my trip.
😭 When I returned, I was looking forward to seeing both. But instead, I got a text from Don: Pat had passed away the same day I came back, after spending several days in the hospital.
🥲 It felt like the universe was repeating the same painful pattern—just like with my husband, I never got a chance to say goodbye.
🙏 At Pat’s memorial service, I wept more intensely than anyone else. Few people in the church truly knew her, which made it even more difficult for me to express how deeply grateful I was for her brief presence in my life. I shared my story with those gathered, explaining how Pat’s unwavering faith had been a guiding light for me during one of the darkest times in my life. It was a testament to her strength, even though her time in my life was short.
😡 I regret not having the chance to see her one last time, thank her for her prayers, and say goodbye.
🧐 Isn’t it strange? How can someone you meet only a few times leave a mark deeper than those you’ve known your whole life?
👼 Pat’s life was a beautiful testament to grace—how her compassion and love extended beyond herself and touched others’ lives, even in the smallest moments.
❤️ Pat, please forgive me for not being able to say goodbye. I will hold your memory in my heart forever.
👉 This is one of the toughest lessons I’ve had to learn, and now I find myself relearning it.
Never assume there will be a tomorrow.
When your heart feels something—whether it’s love, gratitude, or forgiveness—act on it immediately. Because the truth is, you might never get the chance again.