Music Festival Propagation

Here’s an audio recording with Patrick (18 March 2017) in which he starts by talking about his grave marker for the Deia cemetery (captured in mid-sentence).

He goes on to talk about how music festivals spread across the island after he and Stephanie got the Deia festival off the ground.

Transcription: Continue reading “Music Festival Propagation”

The Last Nightingale

Patrick sent me this short recording a long time ago (the file date is 2003, but it may have been earlier than that.) He said it was the last nightingale of the season before all flew off to wherever they go next.

I believe it was this song that filled his ears when he finally passed into the nothingness.

I have used it for my Windows “shutdown” sound all these years because it is so peaceful.

Our Lives, Like Birds

Our lives are like birds.

Sometimes they fly together, sometimes one is above the other, or below, but ultimately every bird falls from the sky.

And yet, we somehow still see them, always flying, even after they disappear.

When they don’t return, we can only hope that they’ve just flown away.

(inspired by a conversation with Ivonne on 13 Sep ’17)

Another Transcription from 2017

This is a transcription of a recording from 1 August 2017 titled “The Loss Of My Father In Words,” recently re-discovered in my files. It’s not very interesting, but I’m including it for completeness.

It’s curious that I have not recorded much regarding the loss of my father. It is certainly true that I have written many things, but the emotion is sometimes lacking when viewed on paper.

I have been affected by his death more than I though I would, despite his many hints and advanced warning. Much of it, I think, is due to one sister’s defiance of Patrick’s wishes. That has added a tremendous amount of stress in my life, and I am allowing it to affect me. Of course, those confrontations no doubt add to it, along with the fact that I was the only one from my family in Spain dealing with everything, on behalf of everyone else. Indeed, one sister was too busy whining and having quote-unquote “panic attacks”, yet she still was able to choose to go on vacation during the time of the funeral instead of honoring our father.

I have written elsewhere that the doctor doubled my blood pressure medicine dosage because of these issues. Even still, writing to family sometimes leaves my chest pounding. After receiving email, it can also take hours for my body to settle down. It’s not so bad that I feel the need to check myself into the emergency room, but it definitely requires me to somehow find a Zen place to go, not something that I am prone to doing. It’s times like these when I listen to my father’s voice and try to allow it calm me.

This morning at physical therapy, Cody said that I’ve got to let this go. He said he’s speaking to me as a friend, not as my physical therapist, and he can see the draining affect, the strain that it has put upon me. After Cody was done working on my neck, he asked Paul to apply some ultrasound for a few minutes on my neck. It’s embarrassing to admit, but while I was lying on the table, tears were dripping down my face. I wasn’t gushing, and I fought to hold them back, but I was not very successful.

In addition to all this family crap, the underlying hard truth is that I miss Patrick desperately. I had a nice email exchange with my former wife this afternoon. Perhaps some of the notes that I wrote in that sequence of messages would be worth adding to this recording’s transcription. She and my friends, including those invaluable friends in Spain, provide an anchor for me, help me to keep treading water, to avoid following in Patrick’s footsteps, to help me keep on fighting on behalf of my father’s wishes, to do what Patrick wanted me to do.

And if it all comes to naught? The grief will be the same, hammering like a pile driver. My friends will be there for me, as I have been for my family. And Patrick will live in memory, even as his ashes rest with Stephanie’s.

1 August 2017 4:45 PM

A Painting for Ivonne

A Painting for Ivonne

Conversation with Patrick about his few remaining paintings, and specifically the one he wanted to go to Ivonne. I started the recorder just after asking about the small painting of nine people.

Near the end of the recording we talk about a painting by Norman Yanikun. That painting is for sale to help defray the costs of Patrick’s burial and memorial expenses.

Here’s the transcription: Continue reading “A Painting for Ivonne”

I’m Looking Forward to the Big Sleep (with Transcription)

Transcription of the recording posted earlier. I’ll delete the old one later since I can embed the audio file here.

Patrick: I’m kind of looking forward to the big sleep, I have to say.

JP: But not yet.

Patrick: Give it one more chance. But the oblivion of sleep is the best part of the day now. And if it were 24 hours a day it would be even better.

JP: If it meant no pain, I could kind of understand.

Patrick: Yeah.

JP: But to have pain is to be alive.

Patrick: That’s a Majorquin saying: I know when I wake up and I have pain, I’m still alive, or something like that. They might say if I wake up and have no pain then I’m dead. That’s another variation.

Another Short Conversation

A short recording (25 Mar ’17)  in which you can tell Patrick’s pain is clearly getting to him, yet he still shows his sense of humor.

John: Any interesting stories or any practical things you want to …?

Patrick: I’ll have to try to… I can’t think. Let’s see.

Continue reading “Another Short Conversation”