In Memory of Patricia VanErt: Generations

I’ve been struggling with what to write about my friend Patricia VanErt since I learned she walked on last month. We had walked together through so much together in our last decade or so and I’m finding it hard to put into words that express the depth of the loss I feel and the beauty of Patricia and our relationship.

Patricia and I probably met about 20 years ago in book club. She was so quiet when I first met her and it took some time to really get to know each other. But through life’s joys and sorrows we built a lovely, lasting and deep relationship and I am deeply grateful to have been friends.

I have had trouble finding the words to write as I remember Patricia. Since my beloved son Chris died in 2017 and so many friends and family since then, I find myself a bit numb. I am sometimes afraid, or sometimes even unable, to access the grief that I feel. I wonder if I start to cry again if I will ever stop.

So I share these memories here, and I will speak them aloud this evening at Patricia’s Memorial Service that I will be leading along with Pastor Mimi Goodwin at All Nation’s Indian Church, a place that holds so many memories for me of grief and love and friendship and healing.

Patricia was actually a key person in introducing both of my sons, Chris and Austin, to writing. We lived in St. Louis Park, but I brought the boys over to the Rondo Library in St. Paul on Saturday mornings so they could learn about writing from her. Even though it was Saturday morning and they were pre-teens, I didn’t have to try to convince them to go write. They got up and got ready and spent an hour or two writing with Patricia. Both went on to write, Christ mostly poetry and Austin mostly fiction.

But the time that always is first and foremost in my mind is from April 29, 2017. I remember this day and the date so well because it was during the 10 days that my son Chris was lost in the Mississippi River. I had invited friends and family to “Come to the River to Pray” and sing as we waited for Chris to be found. Patricia was among those who were with me that day.

There was a moment when we were singing. I had been functioning to some extent, but as we were singing Hallelujah I found myself standing in the middle of the circle of people. I was weeping, or really wailing. Nobody knew what to do. Well, I didn’t, either. I saw the stricken look on people’s faces. Patricia knew, though. She stepped to me and just held me in her arms while I wept. She told me she felt the strength of the ancestors, the grandmas and the aunties who had walked on. She felt their strength and courage course through her and she shared that with me. When I thought I could no longer stand, she, along with the ancestors, held me up.

Patricia was a citizen of the Fond Du Lac Band of Lake Superior Chippewa (Ojibwe). You can read more about her in her obituary here. She was so generous in sharing her love of her culture through beading and stories and in other ways. When my beloved Chris was lost and found, Patricia was with me. It was through her that I began to truly hold in my heart the understanding of generations and relatives and walking on. I was also able to understand how we are all connected.

There are a few places in the Bible where there are long genealogies. One of these is the genealogy of Jesus in Mathew, Chapter 1:

An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.

Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Aram, and Aram the father of Aminadab, and Aminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab, and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of King David.

And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah

I used to skip over these genealogies whenever they came up. It’s a bunch of names (and usually men’s names) and I didn’t see a connection. Through Patricia I was able to understand the connection through time and history, through that which has been and that which is to come. I began to feel the strength of our grandmas and aunties and the hope that is to come when we do walk on.

Hebrews in the Christian New Testament talks about the cloud of witnesses, those who have walked on and those who live in faith with the promise of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I picture Patricia as part of that cloud of witnesses, surrounded by her loved ones, her brother, and her ancestors that have gone before her. I picture my beloved Chris and my friends Rev Marlene WhiteRabbit Helgemo and Julie Page and my mom and my uncles and all of those who are in the presence of God, and I hope that they have met. I picture our beloved Patricia with her healed body, always with her strength and courage and love.

May God bless her daughter Kelsey and her friend Mary and all who loved Patricia. May the Spirit of Consolation be present in their lives and in our gathering this evening.

In loving memory of my friend Patricia