Today Patrick would have turned 85. I can’t call to wish him well. Anything mailed would be returned to sender. I could write an e-mail message, but those redirect to me.
In conjunction with other recent events, today is a day of introspection, reflection, of a bit of sadness for the loss, a bit of joy for the knowing of him.
I intend to write more, post more, share more, but that takes time. I must deliver something to you quickly, for my east-coast and European friends because of time zones.
There will be more, much more coming, I promise. Meanwhile, here are two of my favorite posts on the site: Verderol and Yesterday We Were 8.
But first I must raise a copa de tinto in his memory this evening.
Happy birthday, Patrick.
I’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.
Be grateful, and I know that you are, to have so many wonderful memories of him, and you can relive them through his writings and recordings. A lot more than many of us have ?
This is wonderful, John. Simple and perfectly stated. The inability to speak to him is the most poignant part, right at the start. Sending love.
tlc-b
Happy Birthday, Patrick!