Pat and her Mom- by Karen Blair

“It Takes a Mother:” Nature, Nurture and Life’s Surprising Gifts

By Karen Blair

My name is Karen Blair and I, too, was “adopted” by Dorothy Herold. Not in the same way as Patty and Tony (I was 20 years old, was Betsy’s roommate at college and Dorothy stepped in when she learned I had lost my mother to lupus when I was 14), but thanks to the same generosity of heart and spirit of Dorothy, I believe I experienced what Patty did in her formative years. So I would like to contribute my “take” on the foundation, the roots, if you will, of the life Patty lived amongst us, because so much of what has been said about Patty reminded me of Dorothy.

Dorothy must have planted amazing seeds in Patty’s fertile spirit, based on the recent writings and conversations about Patty’s later years; these seeds blossomed into memorable beauty in the lives of everyone who knew Patty. (I am not disregarding Anthony’s prodigious influence on Patty, who adored him; in this blog, I am applauding her brave mother who, having lost her mobility, then lost her husband, she tragically has now had to bury her eldest child.)

Patty’s love of gardening was something she shared with her mom. Dorothy, as many of you know, is a Master Gardener. Dorothy was featured on a video on how to repot a plant, combining gardening smarts with the quick wit that all loved in Patty. Dorothy could make anything grow. Often she stole precious moments from making dinner to run out to spend time in her many gardens (flower and vegetable) in Westfield. She loved Patty’s gardens in Corsica and was often called in to consult. The first book Dorothy gave me was “The Secret Life of Plants.”

Speaking of dinner, Dorothy was an amazing cook. We speak of “nature versus nurture” and I am not sure if Dorothy’s spirit influenced Patty as much as I think it must have – or did Fate send Dorothy this adopted daughter who was so much like her? Betsy is also an amazing gardener, chef, interior decorator, life coach, etc. etc. so in the Herold family, I pondered this fascinating “nature-nurture” conundrum during the decades I have been privileged to know this talented family.

Both Dorothy and Anthony loved the Arts. On my first visit to their house in Westfield, I was encouraged to admire the huge, top-of-the-line audio speakers which allowed the magnificent strains of Madame Butterfly to pierce the peace of the entire county. Despite the experience, I did fall in love with opera – specifically, La Boheme. For the Herolds, trips to museums, exhibitions, Mansions in May, and Broadway shows were always on the schedule. And they had fun-fun-fun! Dorothy loved to read all genres of literature and still does; she reads at least 3 books a month (large-print now). Reading, music, sculpture, ceramics, watercolor painting….so much a part of Patty’s life. Dorothy’s, too.

Dorothy was a lifelong writer. Having grown up in the era in which many women’s career longings were subordinated to be a stay-at-home wife and mother, Dorothy found ways to express her many talents, whether in writing, gardening, cooking, entertaining, travel and raising amazing kids, and, knowing what it was like not to have the opportunities Patty had for a career, she was Patty’s greatest and most enthusiastic fan. The first memories I have of the Herold family is sitting in their living room, watching a show Patty produced, and having everyone erupt into applause when her name appeared in the credits.

Dorothy still believes that an “old-fashioned” card or letter is the greatest joy in life, especially now that she resides in a nursing home. For years, Dorothy faithfully wrote the “family newsletter” which she included in Christmas cards to friends and family. The newsletter focused on the good that happened in the year, prompting one friend to ask if anything bad ever happened in her family. Dorothy, like Patty, made the most of life, and thought the bad should be minimized in favor of enjoying what was good. Those of you who knew Dorothy in younger years, a bundle of energy (like Pat!), and who visit or call her today, know that despite a spinal cord injury that has tragically made this active woman immobile and dependent upon others for nearly everything, Dorothy is still a positive, comforting woman full of wisdom and with a great sense of humor about “senior moments.” She is a model of courage for all of us. I don’t know how she does it.

But I have always thought that about Dorothy. She nurtured her children and gave them wings, knowing they would fly off into the world and leave. (How do mothers find the strength to DO that?) She was rarely demanding of Patty’s time because she was thrilled by Patty’s career success and her efforts to preserve the environment, but in the past ten years, she would regularly ask Tony, Betsy or me when Patty would next call or visit her, not because she missed being with Patty (even though she did), but because she knew with a mother’s intuition, that Patty’s time on this earth was going to be short and the end could come for her at any time. Despite the tragic injury that befell Dorothy in 2002, with months of surgeries, painful rehab, and the erosion of hope that she would walk again, the only time Dorothy was afraid was in thinking about Patty’s health battle. If she didn’t hear from Patty daily, she was afraid to pick up the phone and call her, because she thought Patty had already died and no one wanted to tell her the sad news. She believed that if Patty were still able to call or visit her, it would mean she were winning her battle against cancer. But, finally, the sad news came.

And now Dorothy goes on without her eldest daughter. I know she would rather have died herself so Patty could have lived. I am still awed by this woman, and grateful that her efforts to bring Patty into our lives has blossomed into a garden of adoration, a feast of love, and essays of remembrance.