My Mom

Patricia Alice Shelkey

October 26, 1940 – March 15, 2010

Patricia Alice Shelkey was born on October 26, 1940.  Just before Halloween.  Which is appropriate I think.  Because Halloween was one of her favorite holidays.  When we were young, she would dress up like a witch every year to answer the door.  And she’d get some dry ice to set the mood, so when she opened the door the entrance to our house was appropriately spooky. She made some cardboard tombstones to put in our front yard.   And she loved to ask little kids who rang our doorbell what they were for Halloween.  Even if it was obvious.  Because it’s fun to talk to little kids. She’d make a point to stop and buy from any enterprising kids who had a lemonade stand.

She loved conversation.  Telling stories.  She was very friendly and would talk to strangers on the street.  And she knew that the secret to a good conversation is asking questions.  And boy, was she curious.  So I know that she would like for you to be curious about her life.  So let’s talk about her.

She loved games.  And just being around people.  The social act of getting together and sharing something.  Whether it was a good meal.  Or playing Trivial Pursuit.  I think that’s one of the reasons she enjoyed going to church so much.  Because it’s a communal experience.  You go someplace and share that experience with others.

She grew up in a big family.  With 4 sisters and a little brother.  And they all grew up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  Or as my dad likes to call it, “Penciltucky”.  This is where she met my dad, in a small town just outside, called Perryopolis.  They were high school sweethearts. When we were asking how they met, she said, “Well, I would have noticed him running up the stairs with my girlfriends and I would have said, “Well, who’s that?”  That was Ron Shelkey.  My dad.

After high school, my dad went into the Air Force.  And they got married. She moved with my dad to California.  Where they had their first child. Ron, Jr.

In those early days, in California, she started working at Bank of America in Berkeley. She ended up working in banking for 13 years.  Most of those years were to put my dad through college. It was a wild time to be in Berkeley in the late sixties.  Some days were scary as people threw bricks and broke the glass windows of her bank to protest the Vietnam War.  But she also saw all the members of Jefferson Airplane frequently.  Because apparently rockstars have to bank too.

After my dad finished business school, my mom was missing the East Coast so he got a job and they headed back east to Virginia, the state they have called home ever since.  They had three more children: Laura, and the twins(as we are called) Nathan, and Brent.  All four of her children graduated college in Virginia, which made her very happy and proud.  And comforting to have your children close.

She loved children. Not just her children and her five grandchildren.  But all children.  After we were old enough to fend for ourselves, she went back to work as a teacher’s aide at Crestwood Elementary for 7 years.  She liked this job very much.  Much better than banking!   She kept cards and notes from the kids she met.  She loved their enthusiasm, and curiosity which mirrored her own.

And she was creative.  Which she shared with kids as often as she could.  Our house is full of crafts that she worked on and made. She was very insistent that homemade things are better than store bought things.  Like cards.  And Halloween costumes.  And Christmas ornaments.

But she loved all living things.  Not just people. She once organized a campaign to save this stately old oak tree that was in the way of a local highway.  She nicknamed the tree “August” after her dad.  And she was so persistent in her efforts that I remember the newspaper called her “the ubiquitous Pat Shelkey”.  She really was everywhere.

Our house was always full of plants and a garden that she enjoyed tending.  One of her favorite plants that she showed me that grows on the side of our house is called Lamb’s ear.  Because it’s fuzzy, like a lamb’s ear.  Which made a lot of sense.

Because she loved animals.  Birds, squirrels, butterflies, ladybugs.   And pets.

She was sentimental.  And very keen on saving things.  She loved making memories.  Her books were full of pressed flowers.  She had a devotion to capturing moments on film.  You would be on a trip or at some party and she’d always want to get a picture of everyone.  This would cause no small amount of groaning. We’d all whine.  “Awww… mom!!”  But then afterwards, you’re always glad to have those pictures.  And it’s comforting she got her way.  Because she had over 30 boxes of family photos.

My mom was a reader.  She read lots of books. Which she enjoyed discussing in her book club.  And she did lots of crosswords.  She was very interested in learning and history.  More than half of our family trips growing up were to historical places.  Williamsburg, Valley Forge, and Ford’s Theatre.  We hit them all. A time honored thing to do in our family was to go to the encyclopedia whenever we wanted to figure out something.  Or even to settle an argument. World Book Encyclopedia held the answer.

She was a woman of faith.  She was devoutly religious and very proud of being a Roman Catholic.  She was an original parishioner of this very church.  All four of her children were confirmed here. On Good Friday, you’re not supposed to do anything.  No work.  Just reflection.  But my mom made one exception.  You were allowed to listen to Jesus Christ Superstar, the rock musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

If you lost something, she would be sure to mention that it was time to pray to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things.  And most of the time it even worked.

When I was 12 years old, two things happened.  The first was I broke my leg.  I had a lot of time to feel sorry for myself that summer because I was in a cast while every other kid was out playing.  So my mom gave me a book.  It was called, “When Bad Things Happen To Good People.”  It’s written by a rabbi who’s son died at a very young age.  Then the second thing happened:  my mom starting going to chemotherapy to fight Lupus.  It meant a lot to me that even when she was going through such a tough time, she thought enough to give me that book and comfort me because I was lonely.  But that was my mom.  She was compassionate and knew that as bad as it got, there was always someone else who had it worse and someone else who needed help too.   She was the heart of our family, the one we all leaned on when we needed emotional support.  And she was there.

I think it’s important to note the book is called WHEN Bad Things Happen To Good People.  Not why.  We don’t know WHY these things happen.  But they do.   And what we can do, is think about all the good things that happen to us too.  Because they do.

Just as getting diagnosed with Lupus, changed her life.  Getting a kidney transplant changed her life as well.  She was so grateful she wrote a letter to the donor’s family, a man who died in a car crash.  I’m going to read a part of what she wrote….

“It was one of the most exciting days of my life, we were called at 4 am to come into the hospital and it was like you were having a baby.  Everybody was so happy for me.”

She goes on to write, “One of my favorite inspirational quotes from the bible, that I want to live up to is “whatever gift each you has received, use it in service to one another, like good stewards dispensing the Grace of God in its varied form.”

The sister of her kidney donor wrote back.  She wrote….

“I was with David until the end.  I wouldn’t leave his room.  I just kept talking to him praying for a miracle.  I know now that I got the miracle I prayed for.  And that miracle is You and everybody else that got a second chance. “

I’m glad we got that second chance for Pat Shelkey.  She was our heart.  And she will be missed.