Yesterday at 3pm, my dear friend Pam Krenzke went on to a better place.
I have such a tendency to focus on the loss, to focus on the beautiful little girl who will grow up without her Mother now, the loss felt by her friends and family, the loss of such a beautiful woman in this world. Thankfully, I was reminded, that yesterday was a beautiful day for Pam...she was reunited with her boys and her husband.
Quite awhile back, Jill (my best friend) and I, entered the Chatterbox "Making it Meaningful" contest on behalf of Pam & her daughter Betsy. Our entry won in the category of "best journaling", which was a beautiful thing, since it was Pam who had written all of the letters and journaling. We won $1000.00 which went into a college fund for Betsy.
The following is the letter I had written and sent along with our entry:
At 2am, I found myself tossing and turning, unable to sleep in a hotel room in Columbus, Ohio. I was in Ohio, teaching scrapbooking classes for Cord Camera over the weekend and for whatever reason had insomnia. I don’t know if I just had a lot on my mind or was nervous about teaching, (or maybe it was the deep fried fettuccine I had eaten for dinner), but for whatever the reason, I wasn’t falling asleep. I remembered that I had just bought the new 25 Meaningful Albums book and decided that I might as well read since I obviously wasn’t going to be sleeping.
I looked through every page of the book. I remember thinking how amazing it was, how every entry was so heartfelt and artistic, but I kept coming back to Vanessa Reyes entry, “If for any reason“. I was so moved by the letters that she and her husband had written to their daughter in the event that they could not be there for her. I just kept thinking about what an amazing gift that album would be for her daughter one day.
I fell asleep with the book opened to one of Vanessa’s pages and woke up the next morning ready to teach my first class.
I was lucky enough to meet Pam Krenzke after that class. She introduced herself to me and told me how much she enjoyed the class and mentioned that she isn’t able to scrapbook as much as she’d like to because she had problems with her hands. I had noticed she was walking with a cane and asked what sort of problems she had with her hands. We sat down and started to talk. The conversation that took place has changed my life forever.
She seemed a little hesitant to share her story at first, but I think that we both found ourselves at ease just a few minutes into our conversation. Pam had recently been diagnosed with a rare neurological disease; the same disease that had taken the lives of her boys; Bobby and Eric at ages 7 and 9. She pulled out a photo of them and I felt the tears well up in my eyes. They were wearing matching sweaters and their sandy blond hair was caught in the breeze. They looked so happy and full of life. They looked just like my two boys who were eagerly waiting for me to come home.
Bobby was her firstborn, named Robert Carl Krenzke, after his Grandfather. He was born healthy and sweet. Eric Michael Krenzke, who was born four years later, was born ill. Eric’s development was very slow. He was bright and funny, but lived most of his life in pain. He learned to walk and talk, but then had to relearn it all over again following his seizures. He relied on a walker to get around, followed by crutches and eventually a wheelchair.
When Bobby was 9, he was diagnosed with the same disease as his younger brother. He became sick very quickly and began relying on a wheelchair almost immediately. On May 16, 1995, he died quietly at home. He was almost 10 years old.
Shortly after Bobby’s death, Pam and her husband Lind decided to adopt. Elizabeth Johanna Kyah Krenzke came into their lives when she was just five days old. Her big brother, Eric, was delighted with his new baby sister.
After a short period of remission, Eric was rushed to the hospital, where he celebrated Christmas. On August 31, 1997, surrounded by his family, who were singing to him, Eric said his Brothers name, “Bobby” and then died peacefully.
After trying to pick up the pieces again, Pam’s husband Lind, died unexpectedly from cardiac arrest. He was only 38 years old.
Pam was left to raise Betsy on her own. She then lost her job of 16 years.
The beautiful thing about Pam, I quickly found, is that she is a survivor. She is funny, kind-hearted and positive. She is amazing.
She began working for Hospice after losing her job (Hospice had helped her family during Bobby and Eric’s illnesses).
It was just 3 months before I met her that she was diagnosed with the same disease as her boys.
I was of course bawling at this point, no composure whatsoever. Pam said that she has a 4 minute rule in her house. “You can cry and carry on for 4 minutes, but then you have to get over it”, because she doesn’t want Betsy’s life to be filled with nothing but sadness (Pam is full of little bits of wisdom and quotes just like this).
Betsy is 8 now and is lucky enough to have a family that will be adopting her when Pam passes away. It is a family that Pam chose because they share the same values about raising children as she and Lind. Betsy has three sisters in her adoptive family.
I never used to believe in fate (that’s a long story), but there have been so many things that have happened in my life in the last few years that I have no explanation for other than God and his plan for me, nothing other than fate. Meeting Pam was a wake-up call for me. To tell you the truth, I was kind of in a funk when I met Pam. I was (and I am embarrassed to admit) feeling a little sorry for myself. Tired of being a single mom, tired of working all the time, tired of traveling and being away from my kids. It is a shame that we have to be faced with someone’s tragedy to see the beauty in our own lives.
Towards the end of our conversation, Pam mentioned that she wanted Betsy to have her scrapbooks to remember her by. It was then, that I remembered the 25 Meaningful Albums book that I had been reading the night before (thank goodness I had insomnia-thank goodness for fate). I jumped out of my chair and told Pam that I had to show her something. I grabbed the book out of my bag and gave it to Pam. She stared at Vanessa’s chapter for quite awhile and I could tell by the look on her face that she was as moved by it as I was…probably in a much deeper way than I could ever or would ever want to understand.
Pam was still reading the book when I told her that I felt like it was fate that I had met her. She looked up at me and said that she felt like it was fate that we had met also; she wanted to make a book like this for her daughter.
I am a different person today because I met her. I am a better person. I can only imagine the impact she must have on the lives of those fortunate people around her, if she could leave such an impression on mine in just 30 minutes. I could never thank her enough.
It wasn’t until months later that my best friend and I started working on this album for Betsy and Pam. We drove 7 hours to each other’s houses (how lucky am I to have had such an amazing best friend for the last 20 years?) and spent day after day in our pajamas, eating junk food, crying, listening to music, laughing and then crying some more, while we worked on it. So many people played a role in making this happen (Pam, Betsy, Jill, Amy and Leslie from Cord Camera and so many other people who offered to lend a hand). I feel so lucky to have had so many people play a role in this; so many lives touched by Pam’s story.
I can only hope that it serves as a lasting memory of a beautiful woman. A mother, a friend, a care-giver, a daughter, a sister, a wife…a survivor.
Goodbye my friend.
Did this layout yesterday - some of my favorite photos from the Summer. My Grandmother passed away several years ago. She was like the foundation of our family - amazing woman. Her favorite place in the world was the Oregon Coast (she and my Grandpa used to take me every Summer when I was a kid). The last couple of Summers, we've been able to get all of her Grandkids and Great-Grandkids together for a beach trip just to have fun and celebrate her life. Really good memories.
