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.
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.