Life Sketch – Patricia Diane Aldrich
(As Given by Steven Wayne Aldrich – 25 January 2011)
Good morning Brothers and Sisters,
For those of you who do not know me, my name is Steven Wayne Aldrich, and I am privileged to be Pat and Steve Aldrich’s eldest son. On behalf of all of the Aldrich Family, I would like to welcome you to this celebration of the life of my Mother, Patricia Diane Aldrich. If you notice, I said the “celebration of the life of my Mother”, not the funeral of my Mother. My Mother hated funerals, and specifically requested that we not have one. As we discussed how to approach this as a family, we determined that a celebration of her life would not be opposed to her wishes – so in order to keep us all out of trouble with Mom - as we go through this program today – we are celebrating her life – not having a funeral for her.
Prior to beginning my comments today, I have a couple of comments by way of business.
In the program, there was an inadvertent omission of an honorary pall bearer. Austin Long was inadvertently left off the program, and we offer our sincerest apologies for the oversight. Austin was a big part of our family as he spent a lot of time in our home, and was a great support in our family. My Mother was very fond of Austin, and very much appreciated his positive influence and his being a part of our family. He was on the original list of honorary pall bearers, his omission on the program a mistake, and we wanted to make sure he was properly recognized.
Also, on behalf of the family I represent, I would be remiss if I did not express our most sincere gratitude for the all of the acts of kindness that have been done in our behalf. There have been so many acts of kindness, emails of support, and other messages. We have truly received and recognized all the countless acts and messages and they are very much appreciated. There have been, frankly, too many to respond to in a timely fashion, so we appreciate your patience with us, and wish you to understand how thankful we are for all that has been done in our behalf.
Along those lines, I feel impressed to make a comment for all those who have fasted and prayed in my Mother’s behalf over the last few weeks. At the beginning of the month, a ward fast was held in this ward. In addition to that, there have been many prayers offered by many people and groups in my Mother’s behalf. As disciples of Christ, we understand that sometimes, despite our righteous efforts in a righteous cause, the answer that comes in response to our request is “No”. That is clearly what happened here. Everything that could be done on heaven and Earth was done in my Mother’s behalf – but the answer to our pleadings was “No”. This does not mean that what we asked for was not righteous – it means that our Heavenly Father – who sees the beginning from the end – felt it was time for Mom to come home. That this happened should not negatively impact our testimonies or diminish our righteous effort – (my Mother would not want that) – it simply was not what was meant to be in this particular case.
Towards that end, one of the peculiarities of being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is that you find we laugh at celebrations of life. We do that, not to be disrespectful but because we have a fundamental understanding and belief that this life is just part of an eternal existence. My Mother understood and had a testimony of that, so as we go through this celebration of her life today, while we will miss my Mother more than we can say, we will respect her wishes, and celebrate her life.
Towards that end, an insight into my Mother comes in an explanation of why we chose to open this celebration of Mom’s life with a Christmas carol – “I Heard the Bells On Christmas Day”. Some of you may know that it was Mom’s favorite hymn – hands down. What you may not know is that her and my father sang it nearly every week in Sacrament Meeting – sometimes for both opening and closing hymn – regardless of what anyone else was singing. You may only sing this hymn in Sacrament Meeting in December. My Mother sang it in every month, in every location from South Jordan Utah to Las Vegas Nevada to Mesa Arizona to Auburn Alabama. The reality was that if you were sitting next to her – it was a lot easier to sing it with her (and a lot more fun). So, we decided that if she were to attend this celebration, (and we believe she is here), than she would sing it regardless. Since it is her celebration, we might as well all join her.
As I begin my comments and present a life sketch of my Mother, there were three things that seemed to be a common theme in Mom’s life – the concept of being “All In”, a Love of Family (both the one she was part of and the one she adopted), and the Legacy of her teachings (and the fun she had). As I address my comments today – think about those things as I present Mom’s life sketch.
Patricia Diane Hope was born the 2nd of November, 1949 in Long Beach, California. She was the third of four children – and oldest daughter of my grandparents – Harold Lester Hope and Maty Margaret Virginia Neal Hope. Along with her siblings – Ron, Steve, and Sherry – she was raised in a little house on Mavis Street in Whittier, CA.
The Hope household, by all accounts, was Ozzie and Harriett in real life. It was dinner at 5:30 pm (not 5:31 pm) – big family dinners on Sundays, fried chicken on Mondays, and steak on Saturdays and a tremendous amount of love in between. There were family vacations, and big Christmas – but mostly her lessons were about God, family, and love for your fellow men. In the Hope household, everyone was welcome and made to feel a part of that family. Mom was well nurtured in the Hope home. Mom was brought up in faith, taught how to work, and she learned to laugh and have fun.
Mom made lifelong friends in that house on Mavis. Soon after Mom could walk, she became friends with the girl across the street, Candice. Candice and my Mom did everything together, and they have remained friends all of their lives. (Mom even spent some time with Candice this fall.) Such good friends were Candice and Mom that when Candice got the chicken pox and was quarantined for a few days that Mom snuck over to Candice’s house. They could not see each other, but talked and held hands through the mail slot in the front door. The plan worked perfectly until their mothers discovered them, and went to get Mom’s arm out of the door. To their horror, Mom’s arm was stuck. So stuck was Mom’s arm that the fire department had to be called. The fire truck was literally coming down Mavis Street when Mom’s arm was freed – saving Mom a broken arm, and Candice’s parent’s front door. It has made for a good anecdote but from the story you can see how important Mom felt her friends were. She would do anything for them, regardless of the cost.
My mother did well in school and was well thought of. She liked Home Economics, and hated Physical Education. She hated PE because she absolutely hated to run. So much did Mom hate to run that one day, when they were supposed to run, she forged a note from my Grandmother excusing her from participating that day. A suspicious teacher called Grandma for confirmation, and Mom found a not-to-happy Mother waiting for her after school. It is the only story I know of where she got in any trouble, but it shows you the depth to which she would avoid running (or doing what she did not want to do). Ironically, she was a good volleyball player, and played it simply because she would not ever have to run. (Bet you all did not know that.)
Mom really did like Home Ec. While a senior in high school, Mom represented Whittier High School in the California High School Homemaking Competition and place 2nd overall in the state competition. Mom always wanted to be a wife and mother, and she did a great job preparing herself.
It was in that home on Mavis that one day Ron brought his friend Steve Aldrich home for a roast beef salad sandwich (my Grandmother made world famous roast beef salad sandwiches). There Steve was introduced to Patty. Steve asked Patty out, and on their first date they went to see the late show of “It’s a Mad, Mad World”. There in the theatre, they played a goofy game where they pretended the popcorn was spaghetti and pizza, or some other food. It was the beginning of a life time of playing goofy games – from flashlight wars in the middle of the night to car games to popcorn games to countless other goofy spontaneous games – it was a staple of their life together. At the end of the date, they said good night, and Dad knew he just had to marry Patty.
Mom and Dad got engaged in August 1966. Dad got drafted and was sent to Viet Nam. Mom finished high school while he was away. Every night while Dad was away, Mom watched Walter Cronkite for news on the war and where the fighting was. She constantly prayed for Dad’s safety, was his confidant to what he saw, and made a promise that if the Lord would bring Dad home, she would marry him and find what she felt was missing in her life – the Gospel. Little did she know, ten thousand miles away, Dad made the same promise.
For graduation, Mom was to take a trip to Hawaii. She came home from shopping the day before she was supposed to go, and there lay a big envelope addressed to her. When she opened it, she said her heart sank when out fell a Purple Heart. Inside she found a letter explaining that Dad had been wounded and was in a hospital in San Francisco. Hawaii was put on hold, and off to San Francisco she went.
On his first leave home from the hospital, they were sitting watching TV one night when Dad asked Mom if she still wanted to marry him. Her response was “Yes” (she told me more like “Duh”) and with my grandparents consent, off to Vegas they went to get married.
On August 5th, 1967, Patricia Diane Hope married Steven Francis Aldrich in the Little White Chapel in Las Vegas (and who says Vegas elopements do not work out).
On the morning after the wedding, when they awoke, Mom playfully asked Dad if it was his intention to be there every morning when she woke up. He said it was. She said she guessed that would be all right. She decided to make breakfast for Dad and she asked him what kind of eggs he wanted. He said he would like “over easy” – he got scrambled eggs. For the next few years, he got scrambled eggs as she developed into being a great cook and a great wife and mother.
A year and a half after they got married, they had me. Besides the normal “goes without saying” import of my birth, that day, in separate moments, my parents were reminded of a promise made. The Spirit directed both of my parents to find the truth and raise me (and my then future siblings) with a religion.
They found that Truth for which they were searching in the summer of 1969, when they were introduced to the Gospel. My parents were baptized 3 weeks after their first discussion, and were sealed in the Los Angeles Temple almost exactly a year later.
To say that my Mother was “all in” on the Gospel is a severe understatement. My Mother consumed the Gospel like a person dying of thirst would consume water. My Mother loved the Gospel, and has as resolute a testimony as any person I have ever known. She loved the Book of Mormon, loved Her Savior, and strived to live as good a life as she possibly could. She loved the Lord, and was a by all accounts a terrific disciple.
After Mom and Dad joined the Church, John was born. To show you an example of my Mother’s faith, one time Mom was getting something out of a top shelf of the closet. She had set John down at her feet. As she was getting the object she needed out, she inadvertently knocked a heavy metal object off the shelf. The object was headed straight for John’s head. Mom quickly said a three word prayer: “Please Heavenly Father” and she said the object was pushed to the side away from John’s head and fell without incident heavily on the floor. That was the way Mom was, prayer was never far away.
We moved to Rigby, Idaho in 1975 and to Ammon, Idaho in 1976. Our little house in Ammon was on Sawtooth. Allison Marie was born November 5, 1976. Her baby girl, Allison and my Mother had a unique relationship. Matthew David followed on November 20, 1978 and her family was complete. Final count, as she liked to say it, was 3 boys, and 1 girl. My parents felt that almost made it an even match (although Allison was slightly ahead by all accounts).
My Mother raised her children in that little house at 2680 Sawtooth. For John, Allison, Matthew, countless others, and I, home was a welcome place. There was always something going on. Mom was generally at the center of it. As Matthew is famous for saying – “We were rich in love and family”. Dinner was at 6:00pm and Mom fed all who showed up. But if you ate, you did dishes. (Mom figured if she cooked – she did not have to clean up.) You should have seen how 4-5 large teenage boys would eat one of Mom’s good meals, and then, without either prompting or complaint, get up and do the dishes. The kitchen was always left spotless. Children, not always hers, were the first to get up and clean.
In that little house on Sawtooth, John, Allison, Matthew, and I were taught the principles of hard work, discipline, love, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Mom taught us honesty, integrity, to talk things out, and to shoot straight.
Amie Helm came along and joined the family while I was on my mission. She would marry John in 1993. Rema Mauseth came along and joined the family in 1991 and married me in 1992. Both Amie and Rema brought a tremendous amount to our home. Mom always loved these women; she loved spending time with them, and treated them as daughters.
In November of 1991, my sister Allison went in to have an ovarian cyst removed. While in surgery, they found cancer and with that began a 3 ½ year battle with cancer. My Mother remained always optimistic about that fight. She never left Allison’s side, and was a tremendous source of faith and strength to everyone throughout that fight. Mom had a great time with Allison during this period. It was interesting to watch her at this time. She never lost faith. Even at the end, when Allison lost the battle, Mom’s testimony remained rock solid – and she did her best to carry on.
In the last 15 years, Mom had a lot of changes. She moved to California, and then to Utah. She became the grandmother to 7 grandchildren – Caleb, Hayden, Tyler, Ellie, Seth, Ethan, and Luke. She loved being a grandmother – spending time with the kids, and watching them grow. It is interesting, that in the last year, we were together more than we had been in previous years. Mom loved those times – and loved being with her family.
Also, in the last 15 years, she became very close to Matthew. They became the best of friends and he even got her not to hate basketball so much (which if you know Mom was quite an accomplishment). Mom loved Matthew very much, was his advocate, and enjoyed their time together.
On January 20th, 2011, there was a tremendous reunion on the other side – a Mother and her daughter I am sure hugged for a long time.
As I close this celebration and sketch of my Mother’s life, I want to share a few examples of things that I will always celebrate about my Mother’s life:
- In 1982, Mom decided she needed to read the Book of Mormon more consistently. So she decided to read a chapter a day, every day (generally in the morning). She would tell us kids she was “going to read her scriptures” and you knew, unless the house was burning down, not to bother her. She faithfully read her scriptures every day. She did not miss a day – through a 3 month battle with hepatitis, countless days in cancer hospitals with Allison, to being in the hospital – she did not miss a day. While she was in the hospital, either Dad or I read to her. Reading to her the last time was one of the most powerful and poignant lessons my Mother taught me – and she did not say a word.
- Cream Puffs – For all of my Mother’s prowess as a cook, she had one thing she could not make – cream puffs. Starting with a Relief Society lesson when I was 6, she could not get them made. Countless are the number of bad cream puffs I have eaten (I am not a picky eater). Not too long ago, I came and visited and she had cream puffs sitting on the counter waiting for me. They were delicious – amazingly good. She let me compliment her on her new found cream puff prowess (some 30+ years in the making) when she explained she had given up on cream puffs – these were store bought from Sam’s and defrosted. We had a good laugh.
- Forgiving – my Mother hated to be forgiven. I am not sure where it came from – but she never wanted any of us to forgive her. As you might expect – it became a family joke to forgive her for everything – which only made her exasperated with us. It was great fun. And for the record – “Mom, on behalf of John, Allison, Matthew, and me – we love you, we miss you, and we forgive you.”
- The Denver Broncos – Most of you know my mother as the kind, loving, Christ like person. And then, there are those of us who knew that part of her that was a rabid Denver Broncos fan and football fan. You have not truly come to understand passion for a football team until you saw her watch a tense Denver Broncos game. It was as entertaining as anything the NFL put out. She loved John Elway – could not stand the Raiders. It was so fun to watch. To get her goat, I used to call her and tell her the Broncos had just traded their star quarterback and then one day – they traded Jay Cutler…..
- 3X5 Cards – In my Mother’s home, there were always a supply of 3X5 cards. She used them for everything. Most importantly, she used to leave us notes, always with the ending of “I love you”. She left them for everyone, and for any reason. She just always wanted you to know she was thinking of you. With the advent of texting, the 3X5’s were replaced by texts. She texted all the time – I got them nearly daily. I will miss the 3X5 cards, and already miss the texts.
- Shopping - Mom was an Olympic level shopper. If shopping was in the Olympics, Mom would be have been the Michael Phelps of shopping. Two quick stories:
o When Allison was in chemo, Shopko at Christmas was open 24/7. Mom busted Allison out, and the two of them went shopping at 3 am. They had a blast running around and shopping. I am not sure they bought anything, but they had a tremendous amount of fun doing it.
o While on a family vacation in Oklahoma, with a car full of people, and no room for anything else, Mom found a great deal on a piano bench she just had to have. She bought this piano bench despite the fact that no one in our family played the piano, and we engineering a way to strap it to the roof and get it home. As a side note, on this trip, we all had an allotment of money for food, but she spent all hers on the piano bench. So, not only did we have to figure out how to get the piano bench home, but we also had to share our food allotment to keep her fed. We had a great time on that trip.
- Integrity and the “Stir by Hand” Story – For those of you who have been associated with my family for a while, you will remember the “Stir by hand” story. For those of you that have not, I will rehearse it because it was one of her favorite stories. When I was a senior in high school, Mom asked me to help her make a desert in the kitchen. To understand the rarity of this, my Mother had 4 children, and I would the fifth on her list of children to solicit for help. On this particular Sunday, having no other choices, she asked me to help her make cinnamon rolls. She got out the ingredients, gave me the recipe, and instructed me to do exactly as the recipe directed, and left me to make the rolls. So, I put the ingredients in a bowl, and then it says to “stir by hand”. This I did. I was in the midst of stirring the dough by hand when I heard my Mother scream – “Stevenson (she called me Stevenson) – what on Earth are you doing?” With egg dripping down my arm, I explained to her that the recipe said “stir by hand” – so I did. She was laughing hysterically as I was, without ceremony, dismissed (more like banished) from the kitchen. She laughed every time she told that story.
The second part of the story is this – when I was going on a mission, I asked her to speak at my farewell. She did not want to do it. She eventually said that if I made her speak at my farewell, she would share that story with the congregation. I thought there was no way she would do it. Surprised I was when she got up, in front of the over 600 people present, and brought down the house with her rendition of the story. The congregation was still laughing after the musical number when I got up to speak. Mom had a sense of humor – and I was reminded that she was a woman of integrity that April Sunday.
In closing, if you know nothing else about my Mother, and the celebration that was her life, I want you to know two things.
The first is that my Mother loved my Father with all of her heart and soul. Theirs was a romance special beyond words, and one that grew to survive a war, Dad being shot, marriage, kids, the loss of a child, and sickness. It now exists on two sides of the veil – but it still exists. Thanks to the Gospel it will last through the eternities.
And lastly, that my Mother knew that the Gospel was true – that Jesus was the Christ and her Savior. She knew the Book of Mormon was true, and that Joseph Smith was a prophet. She loved the Gospel and passed her testimony on to her children and her grandchildren.
Mom –thanks for fighting like you did (you sure had a tremendous amount of skin in the game). We love you, we miss you, and we forgive you.
And I leave this with you in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
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