The other day I was sitting down and all of a sudden my mind went to Patrick. The day he died. I don't know where the thoughts came from but they were there. It's been almost 6 months. It will be 6 months on my birthday. Not really even looking forward to my birthday this year, I mean I know it's a blessing but just not excited like I was. Maybe that's what started it? I don't know.
I remember being home. Up early on Saturday because I wanted to finish my zebra dress to wear to church the next day. I was about to season some fish so that it could just marinate all day and night. We were gonna have a fish fry for Patrick's birthday that Sunday after church.
I started sewing, hoping and praying that the machine wouldn't wake up the kids lol. Y'all know I love my quiet time. I called Tony at work around 545 6ish to say good morning and to let him know I was awake. He didn't answer so I figured he was busy. 5 or 10 minutes he called me back, he was at work but like I said, he was busy so he couldn't pick up.
Around 8 or so he called me back and told me he had to tell me something. It was kinda quiet in the background so I just assumed he outside. The alarms started flying when I heard a baby in the background. The only person I could think of was his mom and sisters. His sister has a small baby and I thought something had happened. I was NOT prepared for what he said next.
Adrienne, Patrick died this morning.
Now, I'm waiting. SERIOUSLY waiting on him to laugh and say he is kidding but it never came.
I did NOT believe him. I had JUST talked to Patrick, he was JUST over our house. He was JUST out with Tony the night before. It seriously couldn't be real.
I'll never forget the way I felt when I realized he wasn't joking. Never.
I know people deal with death and dying a lot. But I didn't grow up and see my friends constantly dying. So this was really hard. I've had realitives to die when I was younger but I was too young to understand. The ones I've lost that I remember, I haven't been close to. This was the first time, I can remember feeling this way and I'm almost 32.
I went to the funeral home to see him, before everyone else did. I was going to support someone else, so I actually got there before she did.
Walking in that room, seeing him from far off, just killed me inside. The closer I got to him, to see it was actually him, I lost it. Even though I initally cried, these were tears from somewhere else. I can't describe it. I'd never really gone to a wake before, but mom told me I needed to do it so I would be prepared for the funeral. I'm so glad I did.
It really took some convincing to talk Tony into going. He flat out refused. There was nothing i could do or say. He got a call from a REALLY close friend and they were able to tell him how much he needed to come and see him before the funeral. He still refused. He got another call that changed his mind. I don't know what they said or how it happened but it worked. I left to go pick him up and bring him back.
The look in his eyes when he saw Patrick still haunt me.
The funeral was at a huge church here and it was packed. Standing room only. It was such a beautiful sight to know that Patrick had touched so many lives. In the time that I have known Patrick (I met him in 1993 when I met Tony) I have only seen him mad/angry/upset ONCE and that was about a week before he died. He was such a great man.
I love him so much. I miss him even more.
I thought it would seem more real, more final after the funeral but it's not. It still doesn't seem like he is gone.
Sometimes when I'm downstairs, I can still see him sitting on the sofa, I can still hear him laugh, asking me what I cooked, looking at whatever I was sewing at the time. I can hear the kids getting excited when they see his truck pull up in the driveway. I can hear him and Tony talking about how they are gonna torture the girls dates when they start dating...that scene in Bad Boys II? Yep, that's them all day long. They have it memorized. I can remember them laughing till they couldn't breathe while watching "Life" or "The Water Boy" like they were watching it for the first time.
I don't know. This is like my therapy I guess. The tears flow freely. I don't try to stop them anymore when I miss him, when I think about him.
We had some friends over last weekend and it was the FIRST time, since he passed that I haven't been sad when they all came over. Sad because he wasn't physically here. Not that he wasn't missed, but it was, I don't know...peaceful.
I still have some of his clothes here, some papers I helped him fill out for school. His medicine bottle is still sitting next to my printer. I still have pics up, I still have memories.
I will always have memories.
I guess I'm done now. I feel better. I don't talk to everyone about him, I don't trust everyone like that. Those that are really close to me know when I'm really hurting and missing him. My heart isn't as heavy. I love him, I miss him and he will forever be in my heart.
