How Do You Measure A Life?

2015 was a year of change, turbulence, loss, joy and regret. Mid-December I had the privilege of attending the memorial service of a long time friend, mentor and my second mother. As I pulled into the parking lot to find all the spaces taken, I realized just how much this wonderful woman touched the lives of others. Then as we approached the chapel the line was out the door. We waited for quite some time just to get into the chapel, and the line continued to grow behind us. It wasn't standing room only inside the chapel for the service, but it was close. 
There were tears, but they were quickly replaced with a laugh and joyous memory. The resounding message from everyone was that this was a woman who was truly beautiful inside and out. She was far from perfect, but she truly cared about all the people she came into contact with. She listened and she remembered. Everyone could count on her to ask how some minor detail of your life (that was important to you) was progressing when it seemed like no one else was listening. 
I had never seen this woman not look dressed up. Every outfit was put together down to the smallest details (jewelry, handbag, shoes and scarfs). But that was part of what made her so special. Her attention to the smallest details. She threw the BEST parties (baby showers, bridal showers, and just because get togethers). It was at her Daughter's Bridal Shower that I finally realized that the reason her parties were so magical was because she put the same attention to detail into every aspect, even the tiny things that many people wrote off as unimportant (right down to the disposable flat ware). 
She did everything with a smile and humility. When people would praise her and thank her for ALL THE HARD WORK she put in (she would work on events for months) she would deflect and thank the people that helped out here and there as if they had done all the hard work. I know, I was often the wing woman who drove her to the various stores to gather ideas and supplies. I often got phone calls asking me to look at photos and tell her what I thought. 
She was more than my Best Friend's Mother she was a mother to all who needed someone other than their own mother to talk to. I used to be so very jealous of the relationship she had with her daughter. I did not have that kind of relationship with my own mother. I have learned that all relationships are different and I have worked (and am still working) to have the kind of relationship with my mother that I want. Then at some point in the hang outs, mud masks and coffee talk with Pat, I realized she was very much a second mother to me.
When my first was born Pat doted on her (as she did not yet have Grandkids of her own), and she often borrowed my sweet angel for a Grandchild fix. She was an integral part of my wedding planning. She was someone who never let me lie to myself. When I would tell her I was OK with a certain situation in my home life she would always tell me that I could tell myself that I was fine with it, but the exhaustion I wore said differently. When I finally made the decision to change my home life she was one of the FEW who was not surprised. Like my own mother she knew how dissatisfied I was with the situation, and how truly unhappy I was. She simply offered me a hug, a glass of wine and told me how beautiful and happy I looked (and of course asked me when I was going to start dating, and every phone call or visit afterwords always including "so are you seeing anyone yet?". 
She always complimented me on something about my appearance, and she was honest and sincere. 
I love the way she always got up, got dressed and showed up. I had the privilege of being part of her end days hospice in her home. Even then she made the effort to look good, and tried to make those around her feel good. In the moments when the sadness over took her I got to comfort her. Afterwords she would always apologize for being sad. 
When she first found out the cancer was back, and worse than the first time around I was devastated. I knew I should have called her more, and visited her more, but I felt helpless. I knew she wasn't going to beat it this time (but if sheer willpower was the key to beating the unbeatable she would have done it) and she knew, yet she smiled, she laughed, she comforted others. I will always be grateful that the universe put our paths together for those few weeks. 
I have learned so much from her, and so I will continue to live my life honoring her memory and what she has taught me. I will even make some of that the focus of my year to come and ever after. 
She was beautiful (inside and out - maybe it was the true inner beauty that shone right through to the outside that caught everyone's attention), she was kind, and she was joyous even against the darkest odds. 
When I leave this plane, I want the people whose lives I touched to be as genuine and widespread as what I witnessed in knowing Pat for 25+ years, and at the memorial service that was more about celebrating a life than sorrow for the time we did not get with her.