Pat Ryan Coleman

Wednesday we buried a dear friend. She was our miracle lady.

Twelve years ago or more she was dying with advanced diabetes and total kidney failure. She was on dialysis and her husband was engaged in adultery. Her situation seemed hopeless, but Pat Ryan Coleman was not hopeless. She was a woman of strong Christian faith and a powerful spirit.

I didn’t know her then. It was several years later after a kidney and pancreas transplant; after a messy divorce; and after a divorce recovery program that brought a special group of people together, that I first met Pat.

I was at a singles dance for the first time in twenty-five years and I was alone. I sat at an empty table in the front right corner of the room next to the D.J. watching the dancers on the floor. I didn’t know how to dance and it worried me. But my confidence increased as I watched. Most of the people on the floor didn’t know how to dance either. So, figuring that no one would notice I started working my way counter-clockwise around the room inviting women I didn’t know to dance with me. It was a bit scary, especially at first, but after the fourth or fifth dance I felt better. No one had laughed at me after all.

I continued working my way around the room inviting women to dance if they made eye contact with me. I danced with many but didn’t dance with anyone twice.

Near the front left corner of the room, directly opposite from where I’d started, I made eye contact with a pretty blond. As I approached her she smiled big and warm and agreed to dance with me.

We talked on the dance floor, of course, and she told me she was there with a group. She was friendly and warm and her name was Pat Coleman. I don’t know what got into me. It was totally out of character, but I asked Pat if I could join her group at their table. She was un-offended by my request and readily led me back to her table. She introduced me to her friends – all women that night. I soon learned that a number of single men were members of the group but they were not present.

I talked and dance with the three of them at the table. Off and on throughout the conversation Pat and her friends talked about “their leader,” Linda. The ladies said Linda organized and motivated them. I was curious about Linda and looked forward to meeting her.

I met Linda briefly that night but then she was immediately whisked back onto the dance floor.

There is a great deal more to this story than can be told. I was adopted into the group and it remains close after more than ten years and the deaths of two charter members. Linda became my wife and the love of my life.

Others, men and women, were later adopted into the group; some have paired off and married. One man adopted into the group became Pat’s special friend. Pat and Billy blessed each other’s lives for four years. We were happy for them.

My life was blessed by Pat Coleman and her smile. Pat is gone now. She and Roger are relocating our group to a new and better place. We’ll all eventually join them and see Pat smile again. In the meantime, we’ll periodically stop by Pat’s gravesite to let her know what’s going on with the group and to reassure her that we continue to care for her love, Billy.