On July 31, 1929, a 41-year-old woman, my Nana, gave premature birth to twin girls in New London, Connecticut. They were both baptised "Mary" by a priest, and within hours if not minutes, one of them died. The other was given the name Patricia Ann. Patty always felt the "ghost twin" with her. Her internal organs were a bit messed up, with some on the wrong side, and something about an extra hip bone. This all caused lifelong health problems.

When I was born and my (foster)Mother decided to leave her husband, she took me to New Orleans, where the family was living. My then 16-year-old aunt was appalled that Mother, mad at the Church, had not had me baptised, and started a fast. When she refused chocolate cake, her weakness all her life, my Mom realized something was up, and had me baptised. Patty was my Godmother. She was going to Ursuline High School at this point. I'm unclear if she boarded or was a day student. In any case, the nuns made a deep impression, and she was a very scrupulous Catholic, and never quite relaxed with God.

My Grandfather retired as a Captain in the Navy in 1947, and took his family to his hometown, Laramie, Wyoming. (I know. I hate that my hometown has now joined the ranks of Selma, Alabama and Philadelphia, Mississippi in the annals of hate.) Patty was just ready to start college, and went to the University of Wyoming in the Education department. My Mom and I lived for a year in Cheyenne, then crossed the Summit and rented a basement in West Laramie. My grandfather helped Mom put together a downpayment for a $9,000 brand new tract home, where we moved in November of 1950. Mom got me into the University Lab school, so in first grade I had a student teacher, my aunt. I didn't call her "Aunt Patty" nor did I call her "Miss Doyle." "Hey" became her name in school. I'd already astounded her a few months earlier. Patty knew, because she'd learned in school, that since I hadn't been to school, I couldn't read. I could only be parroting what I had heard, and it was fooling my dotty uneducated mother. So Mom told her to pick something for me to read, and of course I did, and Patty was stunned. "She can READ!"

I mentioned that she took me to the library with her. We used to have dinner with my Nana and Granddaddy about every day. When my cousins weren't there, I was allowed to sit with the adults. Patty told me one time, in all sincerity, that the Turtles candy was only for grownups. Every time I have a Turtle now, I think of that.

Patty was taking music. She had a beautiful voice, and even in early October, when we talked, she said she still sang sometimes in the choir. This with only a partial lung and oxygen! I must have driven her crazy. She would be doing vocal exercises, "ah-ah-ah-AH- ah-ah-ah!" and "mi-mi-mi-mi-mi" and there I would be, echoing her. This has had interesting repercussions. My sister and brother are tone deaf, and there's no real reason to think I wouldn't have been the same way, had it not been for all these vocal exercises. As it was, I sang in high school and college and in various groups throughout the years. Even in small groups, where I could sing a second soprano and remain on key. Of course, most of my singing after I had kids was around the house and in Girl Scout troops. This was apparently enough to convince Roni, Vince and Bernadette that they could sing in public, and they have wonderful voices. All courtesy of Patty.

In college Patty dated Chuck, for years and years. He was, shall we say, shy. After they'd been steadily dating for a couple of years, he asked one night if he could kiss her. Later, I think when she was teaching first grade in Douglas, there was another young man. She brought him to dinner and worried the family. (Didn't worry ME! He gave me a piece of petrified wood!) He was of the type who had to feel better by cutting everyone else down. It wouldn't have been long before he was making snide remarks to Patty, had she married him, but fortunately she decided he was not for her. Then she was turning into an old maid for sure. She was 25 when she met Jim at church. He told her on their first date that they'd get married, but Patty was not that impetuous. She said it took her three more days to agree.

Their married life had a number of setbacks and tragedies. Patty had a lung removed right after her son Mike was born in 1958. Then a few years later, she had to have another serious operation because of scar tissue. Later, in 1966, she was so ill she was in a Denver hospital and possibly going to die. My cousin Mike was a difficult teenager and eventually killed himself. They didn't find his body for a year. The younger son married an older divorced woman and they lived with Patty and Jim on the ranch for a few months with the new baby. There was a falling out, and they didn't hear from Pete for years and years. Fortunately, when she was so ill in the spring, he came back and made peace. (Though Patty kept telling me she didn't carry a grudge, I suspect that wasn't quite true. She was TRYING to forgive, but some things are hard to get over.) They were bankrupt a couple of times (the medical bills) and lost the ranch.

I was a junior bridesmaid at their wedding, and my cousin Linda's Godmother. Patty and Jim gave us our rehearsal dinner when we got married. My first ever plane trip was to Denver from Illinois to see her when she was sick. She and my Mother had a bit of a falling out one year because my Mom couldn't help giving her directions about how to drive around Patty's home town, till Patty exploded. They made peace at last.

My Nana died 40 years ago. Patty died yesterday, calling her name.