Pam was my friend. She married my best friend Mike and although she was four years his junior her maturity level far exceeded that of his. Whenever Mike and I would get together, our maturity levels would fall far below half of what either of us had separately. Pam was the one who, like a mother figure, would chastise us. Many were the times I can remember her tapping her beautiful fingernails repeatedly on the table, while peering over her glasses at us with “that look.”
I remember one time in particular, Mike had called and asked about putting in a popcorn ceiling at their recently purchased home on Lisa Lane in Nashville. I assured him that between the two of us we were more than adequately equipped for the task. We carefully prepared the walls for overspray, mixed our textured paint, started the compressor and began the spraying process while my wife Sharon and Pam conversed in the other room. I insisted Mike do the spraying so that if there were any error or blobs of paint it was his fault not mine. Pam loved working in the kitchen so it wasn’t long before she popped in to see how “the boys” work was progressing. Mike paused with the spray gun, listened to what she had to say, then immediately turned the gun on her covering her with popcorn texture from head to toe! I couldn’t believe it! She disappeared and we were laughing hysterically. We finished the project. When the girls came back they also brought towels and rags for us to clean. While they enjoyed coffee at the dining room table they were near giddy barking out orders for where Mike and I needed to clean next.
Pam loved working in the kitchen and her cooking was delicious. I especially loved her orange rolls. And while I’ve used her recipe, they never taste quite as good as hers. Is it that we baked at the wrong temperature, to long, to short, not quite enough of this and that? No. What was missing is the genuine love she put into each and every batch.
Pam I’m going to miss those tapping fingernails, “the look”, the orange rolls, the kindness shown so characteristic of you. If there is a bakery in heaven, I’m sure you will be there waiting to offer your orange rolls and coffee to me when I arrive.
Your friend, David Dexter
