Mommy

Mommy

My mother was always the youngest mom and by far the most beautiful.

Being an overweight picked-on child, I waved her around like a trophy symbolizing the gold standard of what I might one day blossom into. Her beauty, quick-witted mind, and festive nature were attributes that I also aspired to but had difficulty attaining.

Because she was about twenty years older than me, we shared a special bond that was more reminiscent of sisters, rather than her first-born child.

Her youthful spirit and perspective guided her actions and cultivated an assortment of escapades.

She continually warned that I was too serious and was an incessant worrier, and that even as a small child I was very determined and had to be the best at any endeavor.

Even coloring in a coloring book had to reveal perfection and be superior.

She felt that I would never settle for second best.

Somethings never change. She was right.

I did not smell the roses, relax, or have fun. My mind was programmed to work, solve, and progress.

Afterall, someone must take charge, and deal with the unpleasantries.

She slowly taught me that life was not all about good grades, college degrees, and striving for the top position, and that friends were an important part of life, which is a big pie sliced into many pieces to assure balance and variety.

No man lives alone, and Patricia, who preferred to be called Pat, had many friends.

She was my best friend for the majority of my life.

Pat had numerous obstacles to overcome.

Many of you know that she married young to a man who was physically abusive to her and then started hurting me.

He was my biological father. My siblings and I do not feel that he deserves the title of father, so we refer to him by his first name.

My mother at twenty-three years old knew this was dangerous, and courageously fled from him one morning after he left for work with a three-year-old, two-year-old and six-month baby in tow. He never attempted to see any of us, have any kind of relationship, and never paid a cent in child support. He was a deadbeat dad all around.

Everything fell upon my mother, who was not prepared for the rigors and trials of parenthood with three small children, yet alone to navigate it as a single mother. We were fortunate to reside with my wonderful grandparents, Pasquale and Marie Vitarelli in Massapequa, which helped to ease the plentiful burdens. They were truly saviors and emulated Christ in every aspect for all of their days.

My mother had many diverse jobs throughout her life as a waitress, a cashier at Path Mark, a shoe repair woman at the Cobbler’s Bench in the Massapequa Mall, and a kitchen assistant in Daleview Nursing Home in Farmingdale.

In her free time, she managed to volunteer at the Nassau University Medical Center delivering medical items, supplies, blood, and plasma throughout the massive building. She also donated her time at the Nassau BOCES Rosemary Kennedy Center in Wantagh helping children so she could give back to others. She even signed up as the bookkeeper for my Girl Scout Troop in elementary school. Patricia was always in motion even until the end.

While she was employed at the nursing home, she met the love of her life, Walter Witthoeft, who was the chief chef there. They were a great fit – the care-free Patricia and the nurturing, industrious Walter – a great team indeed! They were married for ten happy harmonious years and were together for ten years before their marriage. Walter’s passing on November 5, 2010 was extremely difficult for her. Living alone without Walter was a huge heart-breaking adjustment.

I have many wonderful memories of my mother like when we went to Connecticut for a Tri-Chem gala, going to the circus, visiting all her friends, baking cakes and cookies – her favorite foods to consume, cooking, and shopping. It’s the simple things in life that matter, and she mastered them.

My mother often joked to others that she was the kid and I was like the parent because of my serious, mature demeanor as a child. Who possesses the role is not significant. It’s about balance, and we definitely balanced each other well. Opposites attract and can make the best team.

A friend of my sister’s, Wendy, who grew up next door to us stated on Facebook that my “mother was a remarkable woman.” From her troubled abusive marriage, to surviving as a single mother in times that frowned upon such unconventional musings, and dealing with women who feared that the beautiful and unwed Pat would snatch their spouses, she endured. Since she was shunned by many women, she sought like minded friends who were in similar situations enabling me, my sister Michele and brother Michael to have a very diverse upbring in an affluent town with small minded convictions and biases. The independent and unswayable Patricia lived her life unabashedly and unapologetically, and always followed her heart despite opposition, hardships, and harsh feedback.

My mother had many talents and gifts. Even though she was not a hairdresser by trade, she cut our hair as children and for me throughout my teen years, and she did it as well as any professional. The last few years she had been cutting her own hair and did such a great job that woman were constantly asking her where she got it cut. One woman, when she found out that my mother cut her own hair, begged her to cut hers and did not care that she did not have beautician’s license. Some skills are acquired while some are inbred, and she had many to guide her through an atypical life.

Pat had surgery for lung cancer in 2018, and swiftly rebounded from her lobectomy and was back to driving and walking daily at the Mall within a week. A home care nurse came to assess her five days later and was surprised that she was not home, and shocked that she drove to the Mall and walked many miles. She told me, “I’m tough.” God created her to be able to survive and thrive through difficult circumstances, and she did with grace.

As my sister and I sorted through all the pictures to construct the picture boards place about the room, I realized that I had forgotten just how stunning she was in her younger days. Even with a few wrinkles and gray hair she was still a knockout in her size four Aeropostale jeans and stylish attire, exuding that same energetic charisma and youthful appeal. Men continually flocked to my mother even at seventy-nine years old, fighting over who got to sit next to her at gatherings. Speaking of her age, she just missed her eightieth birthday which is June eleventh and the same day as my youngest’s, Jack. Please say a prayer for Pat on that day and wish her a Happy Birthday in Heaven!

My mother’s life was very complicated, unorthodox, and unusual especially in the rigid era she traversed that was filled with nay sayers, rejection, and hurtful situations. I have come to understand that no one is perfect (not even me no matter how much I stress, worry, or try!), and life moves quickly, which should be a telltale reminder to be more compassionate, understanding, and forgiving while those we love are with us. Patricia would have loved that.

~ “Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all, Proverbs 31:28-29. ~

HEaling Link® will meet Tuesday, June 6, 2023 @ 7:30pm via Zoom. For more information, please contact Jackie: [email protected] Isn’t it time to get Linked?