Dearest Friends,
In 2008, Patty came into the restaurant where I was working, and our mutual friend Charlene introduced us. As globe-trotting gypsies, we were kindred spirits, and we knew it immediately. It is a rare and precious phenomenon when two souls recognize each other, and she took me under her wing in the fierce, maternal way I have watched her adopt so many other humans since. Her ability to infuse people with a sense of belonging was powerful and steadfast.
Sometimes you get swept onto the right train at the right time, and I very much feel that way about the period in which I met Patty. She was fresh off of a divorce, and determined not to wallow in self-pity or despair. While most people would do this through therapy or taking on new hobbies, Patty signed up to volunteer in South Africa for six months, rescuing orphaned children, all of whom were victims of unspeakable sexual assaults. That work led to a larger initiatives across South Africa and Kenya to address violence and abuse of women and children and further education initiatives, a crucial component to lifting them out of their current circumstances. Upon her return to the States, she continued to her mission to change the world. She reconnected with (and then married) the love of her life and founded her nonprofit, Tough Angels (TA) and Rings of Hope, as a way of continuing the work she began in Africa. Her work with TA soon landed her back in Africa to create a gender based violence resource center and a women’s sustainable agriculture project in Lodwar, Kenya, the host community to the refugee camp Kakuma. Tough Angels could not have been more aptly named, as Patty embodied and sowed a divine strength in whatever she put her mind to.
We all had the grand opportunity to watch her spin her magic, while reveling in the glow of her enormous love, loyal friendship, and boundless passion. Patty lived more loudly, courageously, and magnetically than anyone I have ever met. She was profoundly curious about people, humanity, and the planet. Her benevolence drenched everything and everyone she touched.
While her heart was too big for this world, her physical body often worked against her unstoppable fervor for life. Starting at the ripe old age of 23, she moved through breast cancer, years of being bedridden with unknown illnesses, lupus, chronic pain, broken bones and torn ligaments, mysterious autoimmune issues, countless surgeries and doctors, and staggering bouts of depression.
On New Years Eve of 2019, Patty called me and told me she had some bad news. She revealed to me that her doctors had discovered a calcified brain tumor, and that she had been diagnosed with vascular dementia, a degenerative brain disorder with no options or cure.
True to form, Patty turned to life. Her and Raymond took a Once-In-A-Lifetime-Bucket- List trip to Scandinavia to see the aurora borealis and frolic with sled dogs. She cashed out her retirement account and started spoiling the daylights out of herself (and everyone around her). She did research for an online guerrilla group that fought for justice for a black man who had been wrongfully and brutally beaten. She continued to birth friendships and connect with humans around the globe.
On July 6th, Patty told me that she was starting to feel like her brain was separating from her soul. I pointed out possibilities of what could be going on, drunk on my own optimism and denial, but she was adamant that it was the dementia, and that it was progressing. She was hellbent on not living out her grim prognosis, and was suddenly grasping for options to determine her own fate.
Death With Dignity and Right To Die laws only apply to terminal patients who have six months left to live, and who are able to advocate for themselves. By the time dementia and Alzheimer’s patients have six months left, they have been cruelly robbed of any semblance of who they were, and unable to advocate for themselves. Because of this, the only option for ending life on her terms, and not winding up in memory care, was to commit to a process called VSED (Voluntarily Stopping Eating and Drinking) as other options for ending life could leave loved ones legally implicated in the death.
Throughout this process, I have heard many people comment about the “choice” Patty made. While yes, this was a decision, it was not one that came lightly or easily—but one that arrived because Patty felt that she had no other option. I watched her struggle for months with debilitating fear and anxiety over what this would feel like, whether or not she could do it, what kind of impact it would have on those of us present, and how long she could wait without missing her window of lucidity. I watched her attempt to step into legislative action, I watched her contemplate using her final months of life to fight for better rights and more humane options for people in her position. And I watched her withdraw in sorrowful defeat, realizing she no longer had the time nor the energy left to champion this cause.
However, there was something else she wanted to change: She wanted to change the face of death as we relate to it in our culture. She wanted her death to be an open conversation, she wanted it to be a journey of transformation and absolution, she wanted her process to be a celebration. She wanted to let ALL of the emotions have a stage—the grief and the devastation, but more importantly the wonder and awe of such a sacred initiation that each and every one of us will encounter. She wanted to make this transparent, and inviting, and she wanted to infuse it with as much gusto as she had invested in her time alive. She wanted to create this for herself so that she could again help light the way for others one final time.
And she did.
The last five months have been some of the most holy I have witnessed. Patty has shared every morsel of this experience with an open heart and her gregarious, unmistakable laugh. She has begged for answers from the spirit world and has received them. She has journeyed into uncertainty and returned with wisdom and insight. She has incessantly teased her cats. She has asked for help and allowed herself to receive it. She has let herself grieve, she has let herself lament, and she has let herself make outrageous jokes about dying. We have held ceremonies and sang prayers and danced in bed. She has enjoyed a lot of saké and a lot of these little treats she affectionately called “Chocolate Fuckers”. She has entertained us with story after story of her life, while never ceasing to dive into the depths of making sure those she loved knew how much she cared. I can not count how many times she jumped out of bed, regardless of pain or fatigue, in an attempt to get me something from the kitchen or “host” me in some other loving way.
Somewhere in the midst of all of this, she embraced her death and its process with a visceral sense of acceptance. Having witnessed this arrival from a place of paralyzing fear, it was a relief for all of us, and a testament to her determination to get intimate with whatever this ride asked of her. More than once, having noticed an auspicious sign or encounter, she squealed to me, “My god, Bug! This is so beautiful and I am so ready!”
On the Solstice, Raymond drove the three of us to an open field so that we could watch Jupiter and Saturn dance with each other in the night sky. When we returned home, Patty was emotional with joy. She confessed, “I finally know what it feels like to love myself. I feel complete, and so damn lucky. I won’t ever again apologize for my life or who I am. I have faced some incredible challenges – my Dad said I was made of barbed wire, but self-acceptance was by far my most difficult lesson. I never, ever thought I would feel this way even though I knew it was the one thing in life I had to conquer before it was all over. I can say, honesty and truly, I’m proud of who I am and how I chose to live my life.”
And then she pleaded with us to let her do one last coat drive.
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for all of the love, support, and friendship you brought to Patty’s life. Thank you for being a part of this memoriam, for gifting this community with your stories of this incredible human, and for helping us to continue to carry Patty’s message and work out into the world for generations to come.
Big love,
Katie Stone
