Chapter 3
“Where’s Bo Bo?”
"And so I tell you,
Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for.
Keep on seeking, and you will find."
—Luke 11:9
One of the most delightful stories we love to remember about Pat, I decided to title “Where’s Bo-Bo?!”, so I could share the best one-liner until later and not spoil the punchline.
It's another one of the many adventures into exploring Pat’s unique world, which began when my three young teens and a preteen nephew offered to help move both “Aunt Erin” (and my toddler son), then go over to help their Grammy and Aunt Pat. We decided that we could share the cost of renting the moving truck and take advantage of my oldest brother’s kind and well-behaved boys. Since it was at this time that my parents were separated, and I would be remiss if I failed to mention my book “Trust GOD to Restore Your Parents’ Marriage: From a Daughter Who’s Been There!”
My brother trained his sons well, just as we’d been trained in my family growing up. We often moved furniture and packed it up in a van or car, or truck, tightly so it didn’t shift, with nothing broken, getting everything to hopefully fit in one load. Unfortunately, but interestingly, merging two households made it difficult for my nephews to distinguish a few items that were for one apartment but ended up in the other.
So when I got a phone call from my sister, I answered:
Hello?
Where’s Bo Bo?!
Where is who?
Bo Bo! Bo Bo!!!!
Who?
Bo Bo! Bo Bo!
He’s not here. I’ve looked and he’s not here. Is he there?!
Pat, I’m sorry, I'm still not sure who you’re talking about.
Bo Bo! Bo Bo! Bo Bo!
I know he didn’t just grow legs and walk out!!!
Wait. Are you talking about…?
Yes. Bo Bo the clown. Is he there? Did you take him?
Let me check Dallas’s room, and I’ll call you back."
In case you missed it, the best one-liner our family enjoys so much is "I know he didn’t just grow legs and walk out!!!" which peers in to Pat's endless and surprising humor!
What Pat had me looking for was a blow-up punching clown that's about the size of a 4-year-old. Sadly, Pat was advised by her therapist, counselor, or psychiatrist to punch Bo Bo the Clown to take out her anger and frustration when she began living with our mother. Another reason I don't trust doctors since countless doctors misdiagnosed my sister, and not recognizing her limitations, they deemed her mentally unstable. A misdiagnosis is far more dangerous than no diagnosis at all because the prescription can prove fatal—like with Aunt Patty Cake. (If you've questions about the reliability and trust we give doctors, too, be sure to get a copy of my book or take the course Trust GOD to Restore Your Health.)
No, Pat didn’t physically die, not immediately, but because by this time she was an "adult," Pat began being sent through different "experts" rather than having her family and the ones who loved her the most, guide and protect her. Regardless of the missteps, GOD promises that He'll use ALL things to work together for GOOD, and having this chapter to enlighten us is a start. "Where's Bo Bo" is also a funny, wonderful memory we enjoy sharing amongst family—and new family members (married in and born into our family), so that Pat is not just remembered but loved, so more family members learn about loving the normally unlovable.
Sadly, it was her therapist, counselor, or psychiatrist, and this nonsense that planted the seed that Pat disliked or hated her own mother and wanted to punch her, which I'm now beginning to realize led to her early passing! There is nothing that infuriates me than hearing parents telling children they have the "right" to feel negative ways about them (or anyone), or they allow their children to say "I hate you."
The foolishness of the world is somewhat understandable, but still tragic. Yet, for believers and the church to allow something so contrary to the Bible—is setting children up for failure and a short-lived life—and it's an abomination!
“Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother (which is the first commandment with a promise), so that it may be well with you, and that you may live long on the earth” (Ephesians 6:1-3).
In the original language, Hebrew, the word Honor or Τίμα (Tima) is a verb (an action word) that means: to prize; to set value upon; with importance, to revere or feel deep respect or admiration for. How does that word "honor" coincide or coexist when believers allow their child, whom we are told to train in the way they should go, or lying to a child, telling them it's their "right," or ignoring what will lead to not just their destruction but your heartache as a parent? “Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old, he will not depart from it” (Proverbs 22:6).
Whether or not my sister was even capable of being taught to honor and obey, not just my parents, but all authority, who knows? GOD knows, right? That means He knows if it's possible with the uniquely created person in your life. As for my sister, Pat, and what He led me to ponder and why I paused to finish writing this chapter is that my Husband reminded me of what led to her passing away prematurely. "For now, I’m going to wait and renew my strength—trusting He’ll faithfully reveal more that I promise to share in a later chapter," but what I am sharing here now is:
Part 2: "When I'm Good and Ready"
After my sister was orphaned (after our father, then our mother, passed away), Pat went to live with the second-oldest sister for five years until she'd called saying she'd "had enough." That's when Pat was put on a plane, and I learned how to "Love the Unlovable." For the remainder of Pat's life (another thirteen years), she lived close to me in an unbelievably beautiful assisted living facility with about a dozen residents. Whether or not I share the testimony of how remarkable it was to find this facility within walking distance to the megachurch our family was attending at the time, God knows. For now, I want to share this testimony of what ultimately led to the "beginning of the end" due to Pat not learning the importance of honoring and respecting authority, or maybe because bad behavior was tolerated and accepted at this facility. Whether it was a lack of training or her inability to learn, again, God knows, and why He alone needs to guide each family.
The day after Pat landed in Missouri from Florida, staying at our home just one night, God blessed her with two lovely rooms, plus a private bathroom and kitchenette—just a few miles from our family home. Though I would have loved to care for her myself, at the time, I was traveling quite a lot, so adding another "child" for my older children to deal with, besides the real safety concerns for my younger children, made this not feasible. Since I'd already had one close call, too close, which makes it difficult to speak about more than thirty years later, but due to Pat appearing older and "fine" in so many ways, I'd lost sight of her capabilities.
We ran off for a lunch date and left all the children playing in the pool with grandparents watching. However, Pat had gotten hold of the baby when (while driving) I "saw" the baby drowning. Shouting "Turn around!!!! The baby is drowning!!!", there's no question it had to be God who had my husband do that exactly without questioning my sanity. Minutes later, as I leaped from the car, running through the pool gate, my oldest two sons had the baby wrapped in a towel, walking towards us, and both were crying, "Mom, Tara was drowning!!!" Shaken, I just grabbed her and began thanking God for forgiving me for failing to remember Pat was just a child. Given one reprieve from catastrophe, I knew not to tempt HIs patience by becoming complacent. I was the adult, she's the child, even though she was 15 years older.
So, when our brother Damian called from California telling me he'd found a brand-new facility, I knew it had to be God's plan. It was so new that there was only one other resident, so I had my pick of suites. I was thrilled to find out that all her meals were prepared, and her laundry was done just as if she were living in a five-star hotel. Every time we visited her or I spoke on the phone, I made sure to remind her of God's blessing and how she "had it made."
Unfortunately, there was one caveat, one condition that had to be maintained—a safety requirement for living in assisted living. Each resident had to be capable of exiting the building within a designated timeframe during each fire drill. If not, they would need to be moved into a nursing home.
Unbeknownst to me, after living there for a dozen years, Pat began to fail the test. It wasn't because she was immobile and physically unable. Pat was unwilling to leave until she said rather indignantly, "I'll come when I'm good and ready." Sometimes it was because she was watching her favorite TV show, or she decided she needed to use the "ladies' room" first. Regardless of why, after enough failed fire drills, she was informed she would be moved to a nearby nursing home. It was only then, when she was either made aware of the consequences or the consequences were enforced, that she told everyone who'd listen she could get out very quickly. Sadly, she was informed that, due to safety and insurance, there were no more chances.
After moving into the nursing home, she no longer "had it made." She didn't have a suite with two rooms or a private washroom. Instead, she was in a ward with several beds, along with a comfortable chair to watch TV that she shared with several other patients. Shortly after moving, she aged quickly, and her health began to fail. The same thing happened to my daughter-in-law's mother, who was moved and also passed within weeks of my sister.
Here in the USA (not sure if it's the same around the world, but) it's not uncommon for individuals to pass away shortly after being moved to a nursing home. Looking it up for this chapter, the "phenomenon" is now being referred to as "transfer trauma" or "relocation stress." Whether it's the stress of the move itself or the impact of the new environment, or fear, as in my Great Grandma Brown's case. It was fear, which she often spoke about— her fear of living in a nursing home facility and wanting to die rather than live in a nursing home, that led to her coma and dying only 3 days later.
Compare this to how we can reverse the phenomenon if they are moved home, as you read when asking my father, “Do you want to go home?” and he responded, “What do you think?”
Conclusion
Regardless of why Pat passed away, because of her faith, "like a child," I know she reunited with her parents in paradise. Like all those who pass away and go on to eternal life before us, we are left with memories and, in most cases, the privilege of knowing and loving them. (If you're not sure if your loved ones will meet with you for eternity, be sure you get my book, Salvation Stories, or take the free course.)
If you have been blessed with a family member who was uniquely and wonderfully created, I'd love for you to join other mothers whom I've been inspired to encourage to author a uniquely created book. Together, encourage mothers to share their stories along with their relationship with their Husband and their child's Heavenly Father.
Stop right now and ask God, “Are you speaking to me?” Then come join us and we’ll pair you with a Uniquely and Wonderfully Made Aspiring Author who can encourage you to know how to let Him write through your heart, remembering what our Savior told the tempter, “it is written," “it is written,“ for "it is written" end of discussion. *smile*