October 1, 2023
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me,
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be…”
Patty is 100 percent Italian, so you may wonder how she got her name. She was born on St. Patrick’s Day. Had she been born two days later on the Feast of St. Joseph, they would have named her Josephine. Such is the faith she grew up with, a faith she has clung to throughout her life, a life that she says “has had many losses.”
Her mother died of cancer when Patty was pregnant with her son. Her husband, who was a stock broker on Wall Street, was traumatized for many years as a result of 9/11 and the horrors he witnessed. It affected his mental and physical health. He developed cancer and died in 2010. Her beloved son John, who was 36, died last year from brain cancer. She says that if God doesn’t give you more than you can handle, he didn’t give her a plate of tragedies, he gave her “a platter.”
“And I can’t put any more stuff on that platter,” she admits. “I go to Mass, but sometimes I break down in the middle and I don’t want to make a spectacle so I leave because the pain is so great. How did all these horrible things happen?”
She has had a lifelong devotion to St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the Little Flower. In her home, there are statues of the Carmelite nun, who knew suffering and the loss of her closest family members. She died at 24 of tuberculosis, and had said, “After my death, I will let fall a shower of roses. I will spend my heaven doing good upon Earth. I will raise up a mighty host of little saints.” Those little saints, like her, would not be immune from suffering.
“I still pray to St. Therese, but it has diminished since my son died because, truthfully, I believe she let me down. But I still pray to her. I know she watches over me and that my mom is up there with her.”
There is a pious tradition that St. Therese sends roses to those who ask her for help. Several months ago, Patty went downstairs to let in the cleaning lady and something shiny caught her eye. She picked it up. It was the charm of a rose. She put it on a bracelet her daughter-in-law gave her, which had the name of her son’s favorite song, “Let It Be.”
***
“And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be…”
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