Patty passed away Dec 19, two days before she and Kayla were due to arrive in Larkspur, CO and mom was to arrive a few days later for what has turned out to be our Christmas tradition. 

After Patty’s passing, we made a promise to each other – even though we may be sadden by this loss, we are going to keep on celebrating Christmas and all that it stands for, which led us to go to Christmas eve service.

Maybe it was simply we were looking for something to ease the pain of losing Patty but the meditation that Pastor Russ gave that night resonated with all of us.  I have a copy of the sermon but I am not even going to attempt to recite or read it because I cannot give it justice.  But I’ll do my best to give you my reasons why I think it applies to Patty.

The meditation is based on the scripture Luke 2:8-14.  It talks about the angels who are visiting the shepherds and sharing the news of the birth of Jesus. Pastor Russ points out that angels play a very important role in delivering the Christmas message. 

Then Pastor Russ does what he does best and blended the scripture with popular culture. In this case, it was a movie called “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  “It’s a Wonderful Life” has become a staple at Christmas time for many including my mother and siblings.  To refresh everyone’s memory, this is a movie about George Bailey.  One Christmas Eve, George decided life was not wonderful or even worth living.  He is alone on a bridge on Christmas Eve contemplating jumping into the cold river below when God designates an angel to deliver a message to him.

He wasn’t exactly an angel, of course.  His name was Clarence Oddbody.  At least, he knew he was an  “Angel, Second Class” who needed to successfully deliver a message before he would be promoted and get his wings.

Clarence’s job was to bring a message of hope and peace to George. He was charged with the responsibility of convincing George that his life mattered and it had purpose and meaning.  It was not an easy message to deliver.  After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to rally George’s spirits, Clarence has an idea. He is going to give George the gift of seeing what the world would be like if he had never been born.  The idea works, and George is transformed. 

When we heard the original sermon, we couldn’t help but wonder what our lives would have been like, not if we were never born…but if Patty had never been born.  For so many of us, it’s difficult to imagine our lives without the impact of Patty. Our lives shined brighter because we had her in them.  She loved unconditionally, she gave with no expectation of anything in return and she accepted you for who you are.  That was her message.

Sometimes we are so preoccupied with the idea of what angels are supposed to look like, (wings, flying, singing, robes, etc.) that we miss the messengers God has sent to us. Sometimes angels look like winged creatures from heaven. Sometimes they come in the form of Clarence, like in the movie. Sometimes, God’s messengers look like our next door neighbor, that person working next to you, your family, your friends, and even people you’ve just met. Clarence may have showed him the “awful hole” that would have been left if he had not been born, but in the movie it was everyone else who showed him the wonder of his life. For those who knew her, it was Patty who helped show them the wonder of life.

Maybe the point after all, is that the message of God’s peace needed to be delivered in the film- and it still does for all of us. Angels played a big part in the first Christmas and they still do -- at Christmas time and every day.

God can send messages through any means God wants. Sometimes it may be a heavenly being. In my life, the messengers have been much more the flesh and blood kind. The message is Divine, but the messengers look normal.

Sometimes they even look like my sister Patty.

I'll never forget the day that Patty looked up at me with tears in her eyes, and asked me to remove the dozen porcupine barbs from Beowulf's tender nose.  We were in Colorado for Grandma Betty's birthday.  With the entirety of my experience as a Veterinary Technician (which was a whopping 6 months), I could barely muster up the words that I couldn't help her.  She then took his poor head in her hands and bravely and confidently removed each barb, tolerating his whines and whimpers.  

Patty seemed to always be able to do that:  be confident.  She walked to the beat of her own music and did not seem to conform to society's norms.  Patty read romance novels, saved every dog she could and wrote stories of her travels and experiences.  While my life went it's own way, she could be counted on for encouragement and support in whatever new path I chose.  She was not there when I moved away from home or had my children, but Patty's spirit always seemed to follow me, urging me to keep seizing the day.  One thing Patty taught me was to write down my thoughts and stories.  We were always exchanging our writings, asking for proofing and advice.  Patty was consistent in her beliefs that you should confidently put yourself out there in literature, even if the literature was for your own sanity.

I found this story while cleaning out my garage the other day.  It may be simple and it is not one of her famous stories that I remembered, however it is another example of how Patty bravely attacked a new experience in her life.  It made me chuckle to reread it and realize the poignancy of it all.

I will miss Patty's brave demeanor, her laugh and most of all, her confidence.  If I can pass on anything that is anything I've learned from her to my children, it will be to always move ahead with confidence, all the while having fun (and if you're not having fun, learning how to change your attitude or your earrings), and walking to the beat of your own music (or in this case, skiing ahead on new terrain)...

Learn to Ski, Learn to Have Fun
by the Incredibly Late Patty Taylor

Who would have thought that at the age of 35 I become a skier?  Certainly not my eighth grade gym teacher, that nasty creature in tight white shorts, who would say things like "you throw like a girl."

Many young girls in the modern 90s are taught how to throw a ball and swing a bat.  My young nieces play soccer and dance, and of course, ski.  But organized sports came after my generation of women grew up.  We were raised to read Little House on the Prarie books, play the piano and cheer the boys on in Little League.

So last March 13, 1993 was a day of triumph for me, as I skied down Porcupine at Taos Ski Valley with my brother Tom.  Finally, after 35 years of recreational subservience, I was an equal.

It was this attitude, a mixture of envy, pride, and curiosity that pushed me towards Strawberry Hill in January 1992.  That, and the fact that I had heard there were a lot of healthy single men who skied.

Strawberry Hill might sound like something a platoon of army soldiers battled over in WWII, but it is actually the beginner area of Taos Ski Valley.  "Beginner area, hah!'  I thought to myself, that January morning, as I waddled over, self-consciously gripping skis and poles.  "Who are they kidding?"  My palms were sweating.  My breath was fast.  I wanted to cry.  I stood next to a lady dressed to kill in a turquoise ski outfit.  Even her goggles matched.  As we waited for someone to pay attention to us I plucked dog hairs off of my Walmart basic black ski pants.  The night before I had used by jacket as a hot pad to open to door to my wood stove.  Which leads me to lesson #1 about skiing:  Never use your ski jacket to open the door to your wood stove.  It will melt.

Ski instructors at Taos wear yellow jackets.  There must be some kind of psychology behind that.  Maybe yellow inspires confidence, and creates happy feelings of supreme well-being.  For whatever reason, yellow works.  Every ski instructor I've ever had at Taos Ski Valley was confident that he/she was having a good time.  And the strange thing is most of them seem to have names of one syllable, like Dawn or Sean or Todd.  Which leads me to lesson #2 about skiing: Be slightly suspicious about ski instructors who have names with more than one syllable.  Ask them for references.  Just who exactly have they taught to ski?  Ask them trick questions like, if the chair stopped and we were stuck and a blizzard comes and it got dark, would my cellular telephone still work?

But anyway.  There I was standing at the bottom of Strawberry Hill, plucking dog hairs.  Eventually a ski instructor named Chris came over.  He grinned, confidently having fun.  "Have you ever skied?" he asked.

"No, never skied, never, not ever, not once," I babbled.  The sophisticated turquoise goggle lady smiled politely.  "No, Chris, I've never skied," she said.

"Can you ski down that," Chris asked.  He pointed to a slight inclination.  The turquoise goggle lady said she could.  "If she can I can," I thought.  We skied down the strawberry bump.  The turquoise goggle lady fell.  Turns out she was a nice lady named Meg.

After careful consideration, Taos Ski Valley finally chose an instructor for Meg and me, a great guy named Peter.  (It might be a good career move for him to change his name to Pete.)  That first day Peter got us on Lift #3, and down Strawberry Hill.  It was exhausting.  I don't remember much about that first lesson.  I just remember Peter smiling confidently and having fun, saying things like, "Breathe, Patty.  That's good.  Now breathe out."  Which leads to lesson #3: Always breathe when your instructor tells you to breathe.

I remember getting in my car, driving home and crawling under the electric blanket, with the heat on high.

I don't remember why I went back.  I think I had already paid for the lessons and couldn't get a refund.  Peter, Meg and I conquered Strawberry Hill during our second and third afternoons.  Finally we were ready for the big time.  I can still remember the first time I rode the Quad Chair up the mountain.  Mostly because I remember looking down at Al's Run and praying furiously that there was another way down.  Which is, of course, lesson #4: Always stick a trail map in your pocket.  (I also carry tissue paper, a pen and a pad of paper in case my instructor says something brilliant.)

Peter took us down Honeysuckle and Rubezahl.  It seemed so hard!  I remember holding back my tears.  After all, if Peter was confidently having fun, then who was I to hold him back?  For the next couple of Sundays I painfully snowplowed my way back and forth across the mountain, afraid to pick up speed, terrified of getting hit, or, even worse, hitting someone.  I would leave the slopes so tired and sad.  I was not confidently having fun.

Then one warm sunny winter afternoon came the epiphany.  I remember it well.  We were at the top of Lift #8.  Peter said something funny and I started laughing.  Which is lesson #5: Always laugh at your ski instructor's jokes.  Laughing made me relax.  I remember taking a deep breath and looking at the mountains, the trees and the sky. All of a sudden I knew I could have fun.  I was confident that I could do it!

The next time I skied I wore my purple and turquoise polka dotted coyote earrings to symbolize my new attitude.  The earrings were fun, skiing was fun, I was having fun.  Pay close attention to lesson #6: Have fun!  Skiing is supposed to be fun.  If you're not having fun, then you better change your attitude, your ski class, your boots or your earrings.

I've skied another year since then, with several ski instructors, but mostly with Peter.  I'm probably classified as a careful intermediate skier.  Look for me on the slopes.  I'm the one wearing Walmart ski pants, a melted ski jacket, coyote earrings and a huge smile.  Have fun! 

When I think of my niece Patty the first words that come to mind are GENEROUS and GENUINE -- of spirit and of heart.  Next come THOUGHTFUL and HOPEFUL, INVITING and INCLUSIVE.

Oh yes, she was also doggedly determined, stubborn, independent and messy.  She had little interest in wasting time on the mundane:  Her car was a rolling wastebasket.  Her home was a cheerful clutter.  Her cupboards and fridge were danger zones.  Her garage a mine field:  Watch your step!

But her priorities were clean and crystal clear:  Kayla first. Self and others second. 
 
Patty believed in the basic goodness of people, always had faith they would find it in themselves.  She would not give up on others, even in the face of incredible odds.

Patty was full of kind words.  She refrained from gossiping or complaining.  She reached out, offering help even when her plate was full, even when her health was compromised.  She was grateful and giving -- forgiving even -- when others would have said, "Enough, already!" 

I will miss her smile, which was so genuine -- lighting up her face and the faces of those around her.  It went far beyond her beautiful teeth and lips  -- it washed over her face; it crinkled her cheeks; it made her eyes sparkle and almost disappear in delight. 

I will miss her voice.  On the phone it was, "Hey, Uncle Mike and Marj.  It's Patty!"  I will miss the lilt of her cheerful greetings left as messages when we weren't there to talk.

I will also miss her joyful presence, her warmth and understanding, and most of all her non-judgmental acceptance.  Patty loved unconditionally.  And she lived that to the fullest.  She will always be a model for me in so many, many ways.

I always felt better when I'd been with her. Now I'll carry her in my heart so she'll always be with me.

Blessed be,
Aunt Marj    
      

I feel very blessed to say I knew my Aunt Patty in two different ways. For so long, I knew her as my amazing aunt who lived in an enchanted little town in a house constanttly full of surprises. She would french braid my hair, let me dance on her adobe roof, take me skiing or horse back riding, take me camping, and protect me if my feelings were hurt. She sent Native American ornaments at Christmas and beautiful clay boxes full of rock crystals at birthdays. She was magical. Her life was magical.


As I grew up, I saw my aunt in a different light. While she was always magical, she became someone I could talk to and share things with: stories of high school romance gone awry, beginner poetry I wrote, professional dreams of beginning my own practice, and fears about being a mommy when I still feel like a little girl. Looking back, I took this relationship for granted because I was confident it would always be there. Aunt Patty epitomized traits that are rare in others and for whatever reason not always as highly valued as other traits in our culture. What you hear a lot about are independence, strength, and persistence, perhaps because these are directly related to economic success. It's not to say these aren't important or that my Aunt Patty didn't have these traits- she did. But to me, she epitomized idealism, hope, and love. These traits don't get the respect they deserve, but in Aunt Patty, they combined into a beautiful spirit. They made it so Aunt Patty treated every relationship she had with unconditional positive regard.

In my 30 years of life, I never had a conversation with Aunt Patty where she was distracted or disinterested in my thoughts. That's pretty rare, when you think about it. Aunt Patty always put in 110 percent into our relationship (even when I was distracted or self-involved and only bringing 60 percent to the table). This is probably why she touched so many people and why so many report having a special one-of-a-kind relationship with her. It was important to her I acknoweldge her as my Aunt Patty and not just Patty because it was that title that differentiated our relationship from just any old one. I didn't understand it then, but I do know. I only had one magical Aunt Patty. She cannot be replaced.  

When I graduated high school, Aunt Patty sent me a letter outlining her advice on skiing and life. I want to share it because it continues to capture her beautiful spirit-her traits of idealism, hope, and love. The world is better because you were a part of it, Aunt Patty. I pray I can embrace your character strengths and I promise to keep skiing.

Aunt Patty’s Advice on Life and Skiing

Have fun.

Skiing is supposed to be fun and so is your life. If you aren't generally enjoying yourself, change your attitude or your environment or both.

There are many ways to get down the mountain.

Just as there are many ways to live your life. Learn to ski a variety of terrain and learn to enjoy the fabulous diversity that God has given us.  If you only ski in fair weather on perfectly groomed corduroy, you'll spend a lot of time not skiing.

If you like to turn left, make yourself turn right now and then.

Remember that if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got. Plus, you might have to use that other turn some day.

Know your comfort zone and expand it slowly..

It's not a good idea to go from skiing a green run to skiing a double black diamond. To live a full life, you will want to take risks but you can take them after careful deliberation.

Take care of your equipment.

Skiing is more fun when your equipment is together, and so is life. Take care- of your body, your vehicles, your house, etc. But -- also remember that equipment isn't everything. The best skiers don't always have the best gear and the best writers don't always have the best computers.

Skiing is about trust.

You trust your edges and your ability, but most of all you trust gravity. Trust means you commit, and skiing is easier when you just keep making the turns you know how to make, one after another, all the way down. Life is simpler when you trust, too - trust God and trust yourself. Just keep making your turns in life and don’t second guess yourself.

 Know how to self-arrest.

In life, know when you have made a mistake, accept responsibility graciously, learn from it and then get back up and head on down the mountain again.

Respect beginners and respect seniors.

Beginners work harder at it. And wouldn't you like to be skiing when you are 70? Develop and maintain relationships with the generations before and after your own.

Respect nature.

Trees are not enchanted. If you hit one, it will hurt you and it very likely will hurt the tree. We are not living on Disney Earth. We must take care of your home, our planet Earth. Unfortunately, you will be handed a planet in serious bad health. Try not to be in denial about this.

To ski, you need snow and for snow you need water.

To live, you need water, too. During your life, I predict that water will become an even more precious commodity than it is today. Your generation will have to figure out how to conserve our earth's water supplies or the human race will suffer.

Sometimes it's fun to ski alone and sometimes it's fun to ski with others.

Enjoy your own company and be your own best friend. Also enjoy the love you can give and receive from your family and friends.

Watch out for the bad and the foolish.

In skiing, you learn how to keep an eye out for other skiers who could harm you. Learn how to do this in your life, too, so that you can stay out of the destructive paths of bad and foolish people.

Stop and help skiers who are down.

We are all in this together. Play a win-win game of life. If all us skiers have a good time, we all win - and it makes for much better après ski parties.

Sometimes it's a good idea to take a lesson.

Remain humble. No one is perfect and we can all learn something new. Don't be afraid to ask for help, and have the self-awareness to know when you need it.

Be kind to dogs.

You never know when you might need one to dig you out. Also be kind to police, nurses, sales clerks, accountants, lawyers, mechanics and anyone else you might need help from some day.                   

Remember that those people are getting paid to be nice to you.

Know when people are coming from their heart and when they are coming from their pocketbook. That doesn't mean they aren't nice people or that they don't like you, but it's good to stay grounded in reality about other people's motives.

Being terminally intermediate is fine, as long as you don't care that you'll never do the chutes.

You can't be good at everything you do in life but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy everything you do. Pick the things you want to excel at and be happy just cruising on the others.

Some people actually prefer beaches to mountains and that's ok.

Everyone does not have to think the way you do and live life the way you think it should be lived. Try a beach now and then in your life, too - and invite me along!

Patty was such a loving, caring, person, filled with so much wit, wisdom and joy I will always be grateful for having known her and for having spent so many wonderful moments with her.   She was an advisor, a counselor, a cheerleader, a friend and a confidant.  I helped her to buy her first, second and third homes and she let me stay at her home whenever I returned from my many wayward travels.  Her kitchen onValerio Rd.was always my home away from home.  We fed puppies together, carried Sophie up from the Canyon when she got bitten by a snake, buried Beowulf’s mother, held dear Beowulf in our arms as he drew his last breath, and were forever a part of the Women Who Run With the Dogs out on the mesa.  I was her realtor, she was my ad writer.  Together we were rebels, dreamers and finally working women supporting one another in our careers.  Decades of memories are her legacy to me and I’ll always cherish them.

My girls attend Escuela del Sol with Kayla.  I have known Pat and Kayla for 6 years.  Pat was so much fun, clearly she LIVED life. She enjoyed the party! At the same time, I feel like she was a rock, down to earth and easy to talk to.  We enjoyed good food , good laughter and good conversation.  We will miss you but we will celebrate your LIFE,

Words can't express my grief at Patty's passing.  I hoped that she would live forever, having surmounted one health crisis after another, to continue bringing her radical joy into the world. 

Beginning when I moved to Taos, Patty was an inextricable part of my life, the center of a magical group that for me can never be replicated.  We left Taos and had our ups and downs over the years, but her message of love and faith remained constant.   My first Chesapeake, Zoe, was the daughter of Beowulf and Delia and a gift from Patty.  My spaniel, Max, was rescued by Patty and lived on her roof (Beowulf didn't like him) until I adopted him.  I know that all of the dogs she loved are happily frolicking with Patty now on the mesa across the rainbow bridge.  Since learning that Patty was dying, I've felt like I am sitting in her kitchen on Valerio Road, talking with her while she gets coffee ready for the morning.  It seems more real than reality.  All my love to you, Patty.  

I have so many feelings about Patty I don’t even know how to put them in words. Every memory I have of Taos begins with Patty – starting with the first Christmas party I went to for the Taos News in 1989. I went to the bar for a drink, assuming it was an open bar. I was so embarrassed when they asked me to pay for it – I was so poor I couldn’t afford it but I had already started to drink it – so Patty just reached over and paid for me. That $5 was the first act of generosity in a lifelong friendship, and a moment that I have never forgotten.

I have spent so many years of my life at “Patty’s Home for Wayward Women,” her beautiful castle on Valerio Road. She hosted my bridal shower there, then took me in years later when I was broken hearted and divorced. My dog Rudy loved her too, and would wander miles and miles from my home, only to show up at her front door. We shared jobs and cars, Christmases and summers. She was my first friend in Taos more than 25 years ago, and has been there for me ever since. She gave me my first job in New Mexico, my first sofa for my house, let me wear Dennis Hopper’s boots from Easy Rider. I met her ghost, bottle-fed her puppies, tended her garden, shared her stories. We skied and hiked, played piano and cooked, laughed and cried. We went on a road trip to the Grand Canyon, and camped in the Painted Desert. My life is better in every single way for having known Patty, and I simply do not know how to make sense of the world without her in it.

Thank you Patty, for making the earth beautiful. I will miss you dearly, but I promise your generosity will live on in my life. 

She was barely 5# when she was born, came easily into the world with her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation at the adventure she was embarking on.  She was an old soul from the beginning, and when she landed in New Mexico, she knew she had arrived home.

My daughter did not take the easy or well trod path of life, but explored it through her life, her friends, and her books.  Through her we all grew...she leaves a massive hole in our lives and hearts

Pat, we love you.

I'm not sure where this photo is taken, but I know it was around 1974 when I was a Freshman in high school.  My oldest sister Kathy was already in college and my little brother Tom was in middle school.  This was the only year that I went to same school as my brother Roy and my sister Patty.  While Roy did everything he could do to pretend he didn't know me, much less claim me as his sister, Patty embraced the idea of sharing her high school with her little sister.  I had my sights on becoming a cheerleader and she would tease me that Seniors were allowed to require Freshman to do the splits on demand.  She enjoyed teasing me, but helped me train my legs to do something that they really preferred not to do. When Spring came and she was ready to graduate and I was ready for the big tryouts, I finally managed the perfect splits and she was there to cheer me on.  For everyone who knows Patty, she was not the cheerleading type although she was always the biggest cheerleader for me and many, many other people.  The idea of wanting to be a school cheerleader was difficult for Patty to fathom, but the idea of supporting her sister in doing something that was important to her was not.  Patty was just like that.  In this moment in time and countless other moments in time.  I will always feel her cheering me on and will always feel her presence because of it.  I love you Patty!

*Disclaimer: The memories written here are that of a 5 year old, so spelling and names are how I remember and viewed them at the time.

As a child, my Aunt Patty provided a world full of magic and wonder. In my eyes, her home (in a land far far away) was that of a true fairy tale. It was filled with beautiful treasures, a friendly ghost, hidden rooms and a King dog Beowolf tasked with the duty of protecting me. Aunt Patty's world was full of story-telling and imagination. I remember games and apple-picking, Gulliver's Travel's and Charlie Brown, a library full of books and a Chatty Kathy doll (that we named Nancy because it seemed more fitting). 

As I grew up, my Aunt Patty never lost her magic and wonder. She just expanded her reach. Whether it was camping, skiing or horseback riding she showed me the beauty of the land around us and the value of the people living on it. 

She taught me creativity. She showed me love. She will be missed until the day I see her again to show me a new world with more magic and wonder than even my Aunt Patty can dream up.

There are Rule Makers, Rule Breakers, Rule Followers... and then there's Patty.

Rule Makers want to bring their concept of order to the world; Patty wanted many things for the world, but order was not high among them.

Rule Breakers want to rebel against existing norms as a way of establishing their own identity; Patty was comfortable with who she was and loved others for who they were. She enjoyed people's differences and never saw a need for rebellion.

Rule Followers want to minimize conflict and prefer stability over change; Patty experienced life with little fear or concern over boundaries that would constrain most people.

In short, Patty didn't believe in rules. That is not to say that she didn't respect authority, didn't drive safely, or robbed banks. Rather, she had more of an Native American view of the rules of man versus the wonder of nature. All of God's creation interested her, man's dominion over it did not... unless man's dominion over it was somehow abusive in some way. She cared for all things that were struggling - she was the champion of the underdog and was okay with getting little in return for her caring.

I could always count on the "Patty Perspective" to add something unique and valuable to any situation I was facing, probably because her very being was so unique. She had strong beliefs and was open-minded at the same time. I can't remember a time she raised her voice in defending an argument but I can remember many times she legitimized a point I was making.

Patty, you were weird and wonderful and I loved that about you. You have given more than taken and we have all benefited from that. You live on in the effect you have on me and I will always carry the Patty Perspective into my daily thinking as a lasting treasure you left me. I love you.