I did not know Patsy.  My loss.  But Paul as ranch foreman (manager) for El Potea frequently came into the office when I worked for McKevett in the early 1980s.  He was soon followed by Allen, who took over for his dad.  We office gals all enjoyed talking to both of them, every single time; nice memories.  And  I used to talk to Allen quite a lot.  He was a breath of fresh air in an office full of older people where sometimes the work day felt boring, too much the same, day in and day out although I was always grateful for the opportunity to work for the prestigious Teague family; but, yes, Allen was near my age, just a couple of years apart, so we could talk about lots of things common to, in fact, our age group; and, I must tell you, it really affected me when he passed while still in his 40s although at that point I had not seen him for quite a few years.  I might have, except for my stupid vanity:  One time I was in Brownie's and I heard his voice coming from the back of the store but, over time, I had gained a lot of weight and I felt embarrassed and self-conscious for how I looked, especially to people who hadn't seen me for a long time and who remembered me when I was thin; so, I did not seek him out, just finished at the register with Cheryl and went on my way, anonymously.  I felt bad about it, wished I was not so insecure; later regretting 100 times I did not call over to him that day because we could have had a mini reunion there in the store and had a good talk about the old Teague-McKevett Building days; he could have caught me up on things and the family; he was a man who truly loved his wife and kids SO much; they were his favorite subject and his face would positively glow with pride.  A family man; a happy family man.  But then he died, and I lost a chance I should have taken when it was right there in front of me at Brownie's.  There was a lesson in that; a hard lesson.  How awful it must have been for all of you to lose him.  How devastating for Cheryl, to be such a young widow.  To lose a father.  And for Paul and Patsy to outlive a beloved son when they say that's a parent's worst nightmare (I can attest to it, as my parents lost their only son when he was just age 34 and they still had to live on many years without him; unbearable loss).  

Also in the office on N. 10th at times, we'd see Hector, who I remembered as my classmate from SPUHS.  And Milton would sometimes take us out to the house on Foothill where we would meet other employees for whom previously we'd only known as names on paper.  We enjoyed those kinds of days away from the work grind!  I loved being out of the city limits where there was less traffic and noise and used to think to myself, oh, how lucky are any of these people who get to live out here amid the groves of trees, lemons and avocado; the rose bushes at the fence lines; the quiet; the open space of farmland.

Now, every time I go to the cemetery (often), I see the achingly beautiful gravemarker (with the angels) of the Baudizzon family plot because it's very near the resting place of my own loved ones.  (Our plot now has ten precious people at eternal rest; all of us of a certain age are losing our parents now, one by one; I lost mine in 2008 and 2013.)  It is so hard.  But that lovely Baudizzon headstone at the cemetery always makes me remember to feel peace.  The stone reminds me of some I have seen in southeastern Louisiana; the Cajuns and Creole cultures, near the Gulf; sugar cane and bayou country (fascinating; I love it; did not want to leave; my own French great-great grandmother whose last name was Lafeuille hailed from these parts).  Serene; tranquil; exquisite statuary in the old, old cemeteries in this southern land of marshes, rivers, lake and ocean which goes back to settlers in the 1700s.  That Baudizzon marker also makes me think of the Basque heritage unless I am now confusing the Baudizzon family background with Alfrida and her ancestry.  (Possible; these are conversations I had nearly forty years ago; I forget some things!  But I have always been intrigued with history of the Basque and that interesting blend of Spanish/French peoples.)  

But why I am writing today is because, although she has been gone now for several months, I only just came across Patsy's obit online and this poignant, sweet video tribute to her, and I am so struck by how much she mattered to her family and how, really, what else is more important.  It was a good life for her!  If we could all come to the end of our lives knowing that we had raised good kids and been part of a big, wonderful family with loved ones all around us, there is no greater accomplishment.  There is nothing that gives your life more fulfillment and happiness; it is everything you really need, and a lot of people do not have it; they die lonely, always having missed something and knowing that what they missed counted for everything.  What a blessing that you all have had each other; it is a wondrous thing.  It was really special to read about, and see all the photos of Patsy.  She was clearly a person to know.  Thank you for sharing a little bit about her.  

Deepest belated sympathies to all of you.  I know I am a stranger and I hope it is not intrusive for me to write here.  I was just really touched by coming across all of this about your mom (grandma).  Hold each other close and never take it for granted.  Looks to me like some of Patsy's happiest moments were when she indeed was holding each of you.  So much heart.  So much love.  

I was so sorry to hear of your mother's passing.  I know you are a close family. My thoughts and prayers will be with you all.

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Patsy Baudizzon

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AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Patsy LaRue Baudizzon

Né(e) 3 AOÛT 1933

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