I found this in my queue of things to publish on the web site. Although it’s five years tardy, the emotions painted here remain so I belatedly add it to the mix now.
I wanted to post something for the most recent anniversary as well, but too often I am immobilized, and so the event passed quietly, unshared, my feelings bottled up to spare others discomfort.
Enough of the babbling. Here, forthwith, is my…
Letter To Patrick One Year Later
A year ago you said good-bye to this world, and the many pains that had been heaped upon you.
Sadly, you also said good-bye to the many people who loved you and needed you, the people who were there for you in all the good times and bad. We were collateral damage. I understand your reasoning and cannot fault your decision, but that does not alleviate the pain of your absence.
I miss you. I miss those conversations we had, the too infrequent visits, your word choices in our dialogues, and your vast knowledge on a vast number of topics.
A friend reminded me the other day that I am now the patriarch of the family. I wish you had not yielded the title so readily, so soon, though the sentiment is pure selfishness on my part.
You left a real mess behind, oh father of mine, but that is of no concern of yours. You tried your best. You tried so hard to make things easy, your instructions to me were so clear, and yet somehow we are as we were before, except more shattered, more broken, more splintered than ever.
We take solace in your relief from pain. Our hearts have accepted into themselves their own pains of your absence. But as you would say with that special twirl of your fingers, “never mind.”
So as this anniversary approaches, I whisper into the ether that I love you, that I miss you, and that I am thankful that you were part of my life.
Written while driving my truck from Simi Valley to Pasadena, towards Auto Club Speedway, the truck you drove from Prescott to Jerome the year you watched me rally.
I’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.