Sandy is at the end of her life. She has been fighting cancer for a few years. This is a blog about her last few days and her funeral. Please add any fun memories you might have about her.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
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2 September 2008 Sandy Borland Pate dropped into my life at the beginning of fall semester 1965 at BYU. I say “dropped in” since she became my roommate in a basement apartment where she was one of five girls. Sandy had a sense of humor that had to grow on me.
Sandy began acting like a completely different person one night. She got out of bed, and trying to take her nightgown off, she headed for the stairs to go outside. All the other roommates left the apartment so I inherited “the other Sandy” kind of by default. I don’t remember how I managed it, but somehow I got her back into bed. She did not go willingly. That was the beginning of a very special relationship for Sandy and me. I don’t know how many times I spent a good part of the night literally sitting on Sandy to keep her in bed while trying to calm her down. She did not like to be touched so this was no easy task. Gradually, Sandy began to open up to me and talk with me about the chemical imbalances that caused this “Dr Jekkle and Mr. Hyde” change.
Over the following months, Sandy and I became very close. She learned to let me give her hugs. She learned that I really cared. I was the one she talked to when she met up with Bob Pate on campus. She knew right then that she wanted to marry him, but didn’t think he would be interested in someone with the problems she had. I was extremely happy to learn that that was not the case. Of course, it took a while, but eventually they were married.
After I graduated, Sandy and I kept in touch. When I got married, she insisted on making the wedding cake. If she could read this right now, she would be laughing about that experience. It was definitely a memorial cake. Tasted good, but didn’t look too good by the time we got it to the reception. When I came back to summer school the following year, I roomed with Sandy again. I had just found out that I was pregnant with my first child. Sandy was so excited for me. She painted a picture for me (maybe it was for the baby who is now over 35 and has not received the picture yet).
During the more than forty years Sandy and I have been friends, she has had one (or two) health problem after another. Still she never gave up, never complained. Sandy had more enthusiasm for life than anyone else I have ever known. She always said, “It could be worse. There are people who are worse off than I am.” And she would laugh. I will never forget her laugh. It was contagious.
And work. Goodness, Sandy could work circles around me, even on her worst day. Nothing seemed to slow her down. She always had to be doing something. She loved her family and did everything in her power to help them. Bob was the only man I ever saw her show interest in. She was bursting her buttons with pride in her children.
Bob, remember the first time you guys stopped at our house in Las Vegas on your way to California? The kids were still quite young. Your car was acting up, and I was so afraid you would get out in the middle of nowhere and be stuck. My sweet husband insisted that we follow you to California to be sure you arrived safely. It was a good thing we did. Then we turned right around and drove back to Vegas. Sandy always thought that was an unusual thing for us to do; she would mention it almost every time we talked to each other. But it is what you do for family, and Sandy and I are sisters at heart.
Three years ago, when Sandy was going through the cancer treatments the first time, my husband was insistent that I fly to Michigan and spend some time with Sandy while we could enjoy each other’s company. I had planned to stay at a hotel, but Sandy insisted that I stay at her house. She didn’t tell me that she did not have air-conditioning until she and Bob picked me up at the airport. Of course, it was during the hottest spell in years. Still Bob and Sandy did everything they could to make me comfortable and to make the visit memorable. I helped out by falling down and spraining my ankle while I was there. Sandy hasn’t let me forget that either. Still, it was a wonderful time, and I feel so blessed to have had that time with her.
Sandy and Bob always call me “Cheri” because while at BYU, I went through one of those periods where I hated me name and wanted to be called something other than “Sheryl.” When I got married, my husband’s brother was married to a “Sherry,” and it got too confusing so I had to go back to my own name. Bob and Sandy still call me “Cheri.” Even if I didn’t recognize their voices on the telephone, I would know who it was as soon as they said my name. Everyone else has long ago forgotten that affectation of mine.
The only complaint I ever had of Sandy was her handwriting. I always told her she should have been a doctor. Or else she needed to provide a urim and thummim to translate her hen scratches. These days, I can’t complain because my handwriting has gotten almost as bad as hers. So I apologize for making fun.
Sandy and I talked several times about her leaving this mortal life. She told me that she was not afraid to die, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for them to take her. She said that she would fight all the way to continue to live. And I know she has done that. She was more concerned for Bob and the kids than she was for herself. Sandy blessed every life she touched in a very special way. She was a friend to everyone she met. I am so grateful to have had Sandy as my friend, my sister and I will be looking for her when it is my turn to pass over. God bless you, sweet girl! God bless you too, Bob. You are the love of her life! You kids, continue to make your mom proud. She loved you all unconditionally.
My sister told me that Sandy had left us. I was so sad to hear that. I wish I had made more of an effort to reconnect with her and your family. I am truly sorry for your loss. Sandy played an enormous role in my childhood. I've missed her.
2 comments:
2 September 2008
Sandy Borland Pate dropped into my life at the beginning of fall semester 1965 at BYU. I say “dropped in” since she became my roommate in a basement apartment where she was one of five girls. Sandy had a sense of humor that had to grow on me.
Sandy began acting like a completely different person one night. She got out of bed, and trying to take her nightgown off, she headed for the stairs to go outside. All the other roommates left the apartment so I inherited “the other Sandy” kind of by default. I don’t remember how I managed it, but somehow I got her back into bed. She did not go willingly. That was the beginning of a very special relationship for Sandy and me. I don’t know how many times I spent a good part of the night literally sitting on Sandy to keep her in bed while trying to calm her down. She did not like to be touched so this was no easy task. Gradually, Sandy began to open up to me and talk with me about the chemical imbalances that caused this “Dr Jekkle and Mr. Hyde” change.
Over the following months, Sandy and I became very close. She learned to let me give her hugs. She learned that I really cared. I was the one she talked to when she met up with Bob Pate on campus. She knew right then that she wanted to marry him, but didn’t think he would be interested in someone with the problems she had. I was extremely happy to learn that that was not the case. Of course, it took a while, but eventually they were married.
After I graduated, Sandy and I kept in touch. When I got married, she insisted on making the wedding cake. If she could read this right now, she would be laughing about that experience. It was definitely a memorial cake. Tasted good, but didn’t look too good by the time we got it to the reception. When I came back to summer school the following year, I roomed with Sandy again. I had just found out that I was pregnant with my first child. Sandy was so excited for me. She painted a picture for me (maybe it was for the baby who is now over 35 and has not received the picture yet).
During the more than forty years Sandy and I have been friends, she has had one (or two) health problem after another. Still she never gave up, never complained. Sandy had more enthusiasm for life than anyone else I have ever known. She always said, “It could be worse. There are people who are worse off than I am.” And she would laugh. I will never forget her laugh. It was contagious.
And work. Goodness, Sandy could work circles around me, even on her worst day. Nothing seemed to slow her down. She always had to be doing something. She loved her family and did everything in her power to help them. Bob was the only man I ever saw her show interest in. She was bursting her buttons with pride in her children.
Bob, remember the first time you guys stopped at our house in Las Vegas on your way to California? The kids were still quite young. Your car was acting up, and I was so afraid you would get out in the middle of nowhere and be stuck. My sweet husband insisted that we follow you to California to be sure you arrived safely. It was a good thing we did. Then we turned right around and drove back to Vegas. Sandy always thought that was an unusual thing for us to do; she would mention it almost every time we talked to each other. But it is what you do for family, and Sandy and I are sisters at heart.
Three years ago, when Sandy was going through the cancer treatments the first time, my husband was insistent that I fly to Michigan and spend some time with Sandy while we could enjoy each other’s company. I had planned to stay at a hotel, but Sandy insisted that I stay at her house. She didn’t tell me that she did not have air-conditioning until she and Bob picked me up at the airport. Of course, it was during the hottest spell in years. Still Bob and Sandy did everything they could to make me comfortable and to make the visit memorable. I helped out by falling down and spraining my ankle while I was there. Sandy hasn’t let me forget that either. Still, it was a wonderful time, and I feel so blessed to have had that time with her.
Sandy and Bob always call me “Cheri” because while at BYU, I went through one of those periods where I hated me name and wanted to be called something other than “Sheryl.” When I got married, my husband’s brother was married to a “Sherry,” and it got too confusing so I had to go back to my own name. Bob and Sandy still call me “Cheri.” Even if I didn’t recognize their voices on the telephone, I would know who it was as soon as they said my name. Everyone else has long ago forgotten that affectation of mine.
The only complaint I ever had of Sandy was her handwriting. I always told her she should have been a doctor. Or else she needed to provide a urim and thummim to translate her hen scratches. These days, I can’t complain because my handwriting has gotten almost as bad as hers. So I apologize for making fun.
Sandy and I talked several times about her leaving this mortal life. She told me that she was not afraid to die, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for them to take her. She said that she would fight all the way to continue to live. And I know she has done that. She was more concerned for Bob and the kids than she was for herself. Sandy blessed every life she touched in a very special way. She was a friend to everyone she met. I am so grateful to have had Sandy as my friend, my sister and I will be looking for her when it is my turn to pass over. God bless you, sweet girl! God bless you too, Bob. You are the love of her life! You kids, continue to make your mom proud. She loved you all unconditionally.
“Cheri” Sheryl Brewer
My sister told me that Sandy had left us. I was so sad to hear that. I wish I had made more of an effort to reconnect with her and your family. I am truly sorry for your loss. Sandy played an enormous role in my childhood. I've missed her.
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