Yang Girly Girl

“…and as the journey of my life shall end, I will sit here and serve tea to friends.”

———T.S. Eliot from “Portrait of a Lady”

It seems anymore that the only time I post anything on this blog is when someone close to me dies.  It’s happened again.

Pam Shinkle, sometimes known as “SledgePammer”, passed away two weeks ago unexpectedly.  She died from a myriad of natural causes, if you can call disease natural. 

She was my confidante, my biggest fan, a mentor, and someone I tried to be like in so many ways, and ultimately she taught me what true friendship was all about. 

I admired her because her bullshit meter was hugely reliable.  She used it on me many times, times when I knew the gauge was pegged at the apex. 

Over a three year period, we communicated via email almost every day, on the average.  Sometimes, several times in a day, sometimes I wouldn’t hear from her for over a week because she was out of town, or much too often, too sick to correspond.  Those emails became more like daily journals, a safe place to vent, to reflect, to philosophize, and ultimately to laugh.  It was my morning cup of coffee, her hot tea of the day. 

We discussed, compared and contrasted our cats, our wardrobes, our men, our sex lives, our dreams, our habits, our friends,  the good, the bad, the ugly and the in between.

It was a shock in February 2010 when she stopped talking to me.  Maybe it had something to do with me telling her to get over herself and go help people in Haiti. 

She didn’t think that was funny. 

Now I know why.  She was going through a pretty rough time.  I guess I had forgotten what being a friend really means.  Sometimes you have to give people solitude as long as they need it, otherwise they can’t breathe. 

We stopped corresponding for over a year.  I thought it was the end of the best friendship I ever had.  I mourned for her then; I mourn for her now.

Being more evolved than me, a year and a half later, this powerful little woman stood in front of me and told me, “You can do this!” words of encouragement for something unrelated, but it fit.    Suddenly, my purpose for being there changed.

 Pam Shinkle gave me the best hug of my life, and she told me later that it was for her as well.

I asked her if she wanted to address the elephant in the room. 

“Well, only if you want to.  I don’t think it’s that important, but if you want to talk about it, I’m willing.  You were my friend before I knew you and you will always be my friend.  I hope you feel the same about me.”  Make up friendship…like makeup sex, only better.

Three weeks later she was gone.  

What I learned is I wasted a lot of time being “right.” 

There’s a place and a time for taking a stand, and that wasn’t it.

At one time, she was probably one of the most powerful CEOs in Las Vegas.  Her overall knowledge of everything earned her the moniker of “Pamipedia” in Powerhouse Pros, one of her Toastmaster clubs (according to Bill Parker, and I trust him); there are those erudite in their specialty, and Pam was no exception.  She was the most literate person I know because she read EVERYTHING.  I often pictured her reaching for the back of a cereal box, not out of desperation, but because she thought she might learn something.

She didn’t just think outside the box.  She thought outside this dimension.  Pam could discuss economics, politics, corporate strategy, and leadership.   She could play poker like a champ and loved hanging out with the guys, or spend an afternoon  with the girls, talking about hair, fashion, colicky babies, and the how to make the perfect pecan pie.  Above all, she was just plain funny.

I only wish she could have taken as good of care of herself as she took care of the people she loved.

There are pages that can be written about Pam, and in the days to come, I’m sure there will be plenty, but that’s not why I’m being cathartic.   She may not have always been honest with me about herself or her maladies, but she was always honest with me about me.  We all need a little lightening in a bottle to remind us of what others see in us that WE don’t see in ourselves.    This includes our adversaries as well as our friends, and objectivity ultimately resides in the depth of our love and loyalty.

And her greatest love?  Well, she loved him…her Bryant.  In 2009, she wrote, “I think he might be my last chance at having the kind of happy life I’ve always wanted.  I really love him.”   She really did and still does, there’s no doubt.

Pam had a smile that warmed a room, a contagious laugh, turquoise eyes, a wit that could always be counted on, and a no-nonsense attitude when she had a directive.  Some friendships are meaningful and everlasting.  Some are a force of nature.  Some become such a part of you that you can’t imagine life without them, and Pam’s friendship was all of these.

In this earthly life, I will probably no longer see her smile, or hear her chuckle, and there haven’t been any emails since October 23^rd, 2011.  I don’t rush to my computer in the morning anymore, or look for a text from the night before.  I know it won’t be there.  What I do have are her words…..volumes of thoughts, feelings, hopes, dreams, jokes, and fears.  They read like a comfortable old classic, dog eared, pages stained with wine, coffee and sometimes tears.

From 2009, “Hi Chickie, I’m the Wordmaster today at Yucca.  Today the word is Lagniappe.  Since it’s Mardi Gras, I thought it was appropriate.”  Lagniappe means a small gift, something extra.  Funny I thought immediately that she was describing herself. 

I think most people hope that the meaning of life is to make a difference, whether profoundly or subliminally, a difference that will create a sustaining change for the better.  Pam did that unwittingly, sometimes with grace, sometimes as “The SledgePammer,” but never for the limelight, center stage, or recognition, something she avoided.  It’s ironic; that effort earned her the much deserved opposite.  I suppose there’s an acute lesson in that statement, one I will think about for a long time. 

“Say, Pam, will your Toastmaster Club be called the Heavenly Hecklers, the Celestial Speakers, or perhaps the Esoteric Erudites?”

I will forever await the snarky response, and no doubt, it will be delivered with heart.J