If Pat had lived until today, she would have turned 81. She didn’t make it that far.

In years past, I’ve had fun thinking about the ways I live my life today that is my antidote to her end while embracing what was best about her. A creative kind woman, with a whole slew of hard knocks and heart breaks. The only antidote I know to life’s grind is living what you can as best you can.

Not to get all power of positive thinking, but the more sunshine I appreciate. The lemons in my yard, the sunsets on the drive home, that kind of Hallmark cliche. The more I remember all that and don’t let the bullshit drag me down to deep, I think I’m honoring her memory. Even in depression, there was stuff that mattered and most of all was keep on keeping on.

Now, I could try to remember another great whacky story from the annuls of Pat. One of my fond memories from fairly late in her life, or at least around the retirement from teaching years, was a gift basket she arranged. Her friend was either having a milestone birthday or a retirement party, something fairly momentous. Pat decided to put together a gift basket. It was no bath salts and cologne and wash cloths run of the mill department store gift basket.

It was mined from months of picking up the weird and interesting and a few actual cool gift items. I only vaguely remember it, because it was like a memory game where a bunch or random, disparate objects were spread out before me and later I would be tested for recall. One item I remember was the Steiff bear.

The recipient collected teddy bears, or she had an antique from childhood (or the childhood of someone in her family tree), and naturally such a find would have to be in the growing basket. Only, Pat wasn’t really going to lay out large bills for a fuzzy old bear, not when ingenuity and a sense of humor were on her side. Collectors would know that among the things that make Steiff bears unique and prove their authenticity is a button in the ear. Dating back about a century or so, that’s how the Steiff family swings.

Pat, she bought a big old button, and a little, old haggard bear, and voila, Steiff. It’s that kind of fun gift pack that took people by surprise. Other folks just don’t think of that stuff, and, if they do, they don’t carry it out.

In those occasional moments of my own whimsy, I think of Pat. It’s one of the reasons I like the Walsh Brothers. They have an awesome ceramic figurine of a wise, green mentor from the Star Wars movies.

I think the story goes that their mother made it for them in the height of the frenzy when they were boys in the 1980s. Like many a mom at the time, though, the intricacies of names like Obi Wan Kenobi were lost. So, carefully hand painted on the figure is it’s name — JODA.

Joda and the Steiff bear will end up together in a toy heaven some day.

I didn’t mean to tell a Pat story, though. What I meant to do was write about the issue of the day that is not getting enough news coverage and would have had her muttering for days an days and days and days.

I’ve only seen a bit in our U.S. news, but Germany is having its own Catholic Church meltdown with various scandals. Right now, it’s a lot of what did Pope Benedict, then Archbishop Joseph Ratzinger, know and when did he know it. You gotta figure he knew is brother Georg was a hothead with some anger management issues lighting the choir up at his school.

I saw the stories, and I couldn’t help but think what would Pat’s take be on the whole issue. No doubt, there would be a whole lot of ranting about hypocrisy and priests and their lies. In this case, I think some Nazi name calling would be marched out, and maybe a remembrance of how the Catholic Church doesn’t exactly have an exactly stellar historical record in terms of World War II. Of course, when she was alive she picked out the Polish record during the Holocaust to indict the prior Pope, so a former Nazi youth would be fish in a barrel.

I love that not only did I think these thoughts, but my email box reminded me that my thoughts were not alone. My aunt reminded me of what may have been Pat’s last words to anyone in our family on this earth — “Law should be shot.” Her concise analysis of how the Vatican should have handled Boston’s church sex scandals.

Technorati Tags: comedy, childhood, fun, Catholic Church, life, Pat