Tribute to Pankaj Chand – A True Friend, Mentor, and Guiding Light

While sorting through some papers recently, I came across this letter from you. I was reminded of it as I wrote a tribute to Mary Elizabeth Boleyn yesterday for what would have been her 40th birthday.

I want to make sure I say these things to you while we are together above ground. Rarely do we get a chance to share our thoughts and respect for another person while we are both alive.

Today, I want to take a moment to honor a remarkable individual who has been more than a friend to me – Pankaj Chand. It’s rare to find someone who resonates with your soul, who stands by you in every phase of life, and who inspires you to be the best version of yourself. Pankaj, you are that rare gem.

Your presence in my life has been a beacon of hope and wisdom. From the fun times where our spirits danced in the light of friendship, to the profound moments where you stood by me, you’ve been my rock. I remember vividly the countless times we’ve been there for each other – me bringing tapes and player to your hospital room, guiding each other through challenging personal decisions and celebrations, or simply being a phone call away in moments of need.

Your support during my business ventures has been invaluable. Who else would have brought me the first hand-held device to run my business on Excel? Or mentored me as I ventured into the complexities of forming a corporation in India? Your foresight and wisdom have always guided me towards success.

But it’s not just in business that your influence has been felt. You’ve been there in my most personal moments – from health emergencies to being a comforting presence during my daughter Mary’s transition from this life. Your empathy and care have touched not just my life but the lives of my family members.

Pankaj, your leadership and vision in business are exemplary. But more than that, it’s your human touch, your ability to connect on a deeper level, that sets you apart. You’ve been a physician, not just in the medical sense, but in healing souls and mending hearts.

Your poem and song for Molly’s and my engagement, and your instrumental role in making our wedding a celebration, are memories I cherish deeply. Your presence at these milestone moments in my life added a special touch that only you could bring.

As you once wrote to me, “You are truly one of ‘Only a Few’.” These words mirror my sentiments for you. You have left an indelible mark on my life and on the lives of those around us. The rendition of “Wind Beneath My Wings” in Winnipeg was not just a tribute from you and to you, but a testament to the profound impact you’ve had on all of us.

As we continue on our life’s journey, I look forward to more adventures, more growth, and more shared moments of joy and sorrow. You’re not just a friend; you’re a brother, a mentor, and a guiding light.

Pankaj. Here’s to you – a true embodiment of resilience, insight, and love. May the years ahead be filled with health, happiness, and the continued joy of touching lives as you have touched mine.

With all my love and respect,

Mary Virginia Bitner nee Frank

It has been a good ride. This is me waving to you. Love you forever!

This post is to celebrate & commemorate the abundant life of my sister, Molly (Mary) Virginia Bitner (nee Frank). As Molly was seven years older, she contributed to much of my toddler years while Mom (Nana) worked. Throughout my life, my sister was a standard of hope and strong continuity.

Throughout her life, her family came first. She was a saint to care for our mother for decades in Raleigh. Along with Nana, Molly was the most gleeful when surrounded by her grandchildren.

When my sister drew me back from Canada to NC in 2013, her first mission was to coerce me into driving her to Wilmington and the ocean. Molly was very connected to universal consciousness and knew the importance of grounding during intensive life changes. I will miss her every day for the balance of my life. I will add stories to this posting over time. Please leave messages below.

Molly was all about “circling the wagons” as a family. When my daughter, also Mary, was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis, my sister was there to understand the seriousness of the diagnosis and insisted we would conquer this together.

When I told her several months ago that I had created the non-profit Mary Boleyn Hospice Foundation Inc., she responded, I wish I had the strength to help on this project. I promised her a permanent foundation remembrance for her legacy.

For those wanting to donate to the Foundation in Molly Bitner’s name, please follow the link below to celebrate Molly’s life with the gift of a Thumbs Up TaDa mug to a friend or family member for a “boisterous celebration of achievement” moment. One of Molly’s memorable praises to all her grandchildren was always, you get two “atta girls or atta boys for that.

Services are on Friday 12/6 at 1 pm at Lifepointe Church North Raleigh.

Here is a collection of photos from an archive with numerous stories and descriptions. Many more to follow.

Molly was the nickname that stayed with her for her entire life. She was named Mary Virginia Frank at birth.

Molly lived for her children and grandchildren. That is all she talked about most of the time.

Fact about Molly. She hated, yes, loathed to fly. When my Molly McGregor was diagnosed with cancer, my sister flew to Toronto, Canada and to Guelph to help out with the accounting of Lambda Crystal Inc. I knew of another time that she flew with her husband Dick and left fingernail marks in his arm from squeezing.

I know she also flew with Heidi to a physician in the midwest who helped with Heidi’s ailments.

This was at a family gathering in Stow, Ohio. Mom (Nana) Molly, Mike & James

When I returned from Canada in 2013, my sister Molly told me I needed to go to the beach to relax and check-in with the universe for grounding after a harsh separation.

This cupboard followed my sister around her entire life. My Pop & I made this cupboard when I was about 8 years old. I remember having to crawl inside to attach the drawer slides. I remember Molly having this in their Stow house in the kitchen. Molly had the top drawer full of very carefully sorted coupons. She was the queen of coupons. She raised her kids on a limited budget by carefully spending the earnings she & Dick could muster up. The cupboard ended up in Kari’s house. Live on!

After Molly had a stroke she was in several nursing homes. This was a dining room in one. She told me that day that she was tired. Because we talked about the future, I pointedly asked her if she was ready for a new adventure? She said yes. So I said let’s take a picture of you waving goodbye to this one and on to the next adventure. She loved it and asked me to hold her head up so we could see her face. God love her.

You may not see it, but brother Mike is being told not to make “horns” behind Molly’s head. Mom was always telling us boys to “settle down”.

Fun fact. Dick & Molly went to Florida with me to a network marketing convention, circa 1991-92. She was not impressed.

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Brother John

Kids, siblings come with no guarantees. They may not love you the way you want to be loved. You may not love them the way that makes them feel you care. Mostly, I think, siblings put up with each other the majority of the time.

My brothers and sister have not been close over the years. Sister Molly has been the most in touch and sharing. Probably due to her taking over the matriarchal responsibility from my mother.

Here is a YouTube of my brother John.

John – aka –  Normal Woodstock Spalding

What little kids are made of….

Kids; this put a huge grin on my face the other day and I had to include it in a post. Daughter Mary is in her, I hate my father mood again. She learned so well from her mother to disrespect men, which includes, especially her father. Her anger and hate have taken over her mind. What a sad loss for the next generation.

Bahaha

Introducing Clara Sophia

The role of parents is to give unconditional love and do whatever it takes to increase every child’s self-esteem. I am so proud of my daughter Mary and Clara. What a journey the universe brings to spiritual beings.

Mother

I was raised to love my parents, no matter what they did to me. At what point does parenting cross the line to abuse and trauma?  Sorry just does not cut it. I have lived my life, as well as my siblings, always trying to overcome the PTSD that resulted from being beaten as a child. I am not talking about a small pat on the butt to get me out of the street and back on the sidewalk.

I am talking about being hit so hard with the back of my father’s hand at the dinner table that my chair flew backward and I landed on the floor. Not a word was spoken by anyone at the dinner table. I picked up my chair and began eating again.  After what seemed like an eternity, my father said, “Don’t have your hand on your glass and eat at the same time, it shows you are too anxious about life.” He would repeatedly tell me that I needed to learn the lessons quickly because he was old and didn’t have enough time to teach me over again.

Several thoughts have emerged as a result of this past weekend being Mother’s Day and so many social venues almost piffle over how much people loved their mothers and how much mothers love their children. Was it love from my mother that allowed her to stand in the kitchen preparing dinner while my father had my brother and I on a fold out couch with our bare asses exposed, while he beat us with a 2×10, so he could hit us both at the same time? Was it love that allowed her set dinner and sit quietly as my brother and I were forced to sit at the table, humiliated, abused, traumatized and in desperate need of comfort and affection from a nurturing parent?

I Love My Mom!

My mom read books every night. Mysteries mostly. She would take me along with her to the Akron Public Library every Thursday night, where she would direct me to the children’s shelves while she selected at least 4-5 books for the next week’s reading. She would read from late evening until 2-3 am every night.

Being so artistic, she also enjoyed writing to people. The following was sent to me along with a couple of crochet doyleys. What an amazing woman! Insightful, able to teach by fable, ability to laugh at the moment, and uplift the soul.  Mom, I love you!

Andersonville, GA

I visited my Great, great grandfather, Wesley Marken’s gravestone at Andersonville, GA. Myriad thoughts have gone through my head in the last 24 hours. Suffice it to say, the experience was awesome. I found myself quite emotional as I arrived at the museum. As I explained to the museum attendants that I was there to visit my relative’s grave, they began spouting historical trivia that could only be described as rewarding as they took so much glee and satisfaction in sharing their knowledge. They reminded me so much of my nephew Scott Bitner. He is a fine teacher and loves history. I knew he would be keenly interested.

Some of the things that left an impression on me were;

    • the horrific conditions that the POW endured, virtually no water for 33,000 men, limited rations, little to no protection from the elements, loneliness, desperation, fear, little to look forward to. It was described by POWs as hell on earth and living death.
  • historically, I learned that the camp was opened in 1864 in February. By August the Confederates figured that it was not a good idea and moved most prisoners elsewhere.
  • The last 4000 were left to die as they were not strong enough to move. My gggrandfather was one of those. He was hospitalized Oct 13 and died that day. Men did not want to be separated from their comrades and would rather die with friends than in the hospital.
  • Why would my gggrandfather leave his wife, family, and a 2 year, 9 month old son, to join a regiment in the Union army, when the war was clearly being won by the Union. Gettysburg was over, battles were taking place more in the south than the north, Washington was safe. Did he want to provide for his family financially? Was it an older brother that had died and he wanted revenge? Was he strongly opposed to the reunification of the States? Was he led to believe that he would be posted to protect the rail line in Baltimore, and therefore safe from injury or death? The emancipation proclamation had already been signed into law. Was he a strong believer in freedom for all?

I find it interesting that there were soldiers on both maternal and fraternal sides of my family. My grandfather’s grandfather fought in the Civil War. My father’s great grandfather most likely came over from Salzburg, Austria to fight as a Hessian in the Revolutionary War. My father was in the military in WWI. I was in the Army during the Vietnam Conflict.

I met a really nice young girl at a Chili’s in Milledgeville, GA today and we were talking about this. I told her that I had been attracted to the Army in 1967 because their motto was, “Join the Army, see the world”. She laughed and remarked, you missed the “join the Army” part and only saw the “see the world” part. I laughed out loud because it was so true. So, thank you Mechea. You made a difference in my life today.