I remember taking off from Palma in March of last year. As we climbed out over the mountains at sunset, I quietly wept, fearing that I had just seen Patrick alive for the last time.
Then I told myself that I have to replace that image with something more positive. I must try to visualize coming back again in the fall to see him.
But creative visualization only goes so far. It does not override reality in all cases.
I’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.