Happy birthday (no. 4) / Heather
Dearest Patrick, My special companion in Heaven,
What a year this has been. Can you believe where all I've come? Did you ever imagine that I would be a Dominican? Or author a Catholic blog? Or be a somewhat decent cook?
Let it be testimony to God's goodness and providence.
Today I noticed Spring for the first time. Little pale green buds on the trees. The birds down in the garage gathering material for their nests. My heart still shivers under a chilly pall... there's been a touch of winter there for nearly 4 years now... dare I hope that it will thaw and vanish at last?
My heart is so full, but I can't find words. I know that you know what all is in me.
Remember me as I remember you, and keep me in your prayers!
This is the 3rd birthday you're not here to celebrate. It's still hard to believe. It made me cry last night, in the dark. Maybe you noticed. I think you must have noticed, because very quickly I felt a warm comfort surround me. Maybe that was you. I'm grateful!
I guess birthdays don't really matter to you any more. Birthdays are a consolation for those of us who must keep getting older. You haven't gotten older in years, and you never will. That must be my consolation now whenever this day comes around.
Thank you Patrick ... / Julie D. (Friend of Heather's )Read >>
Thank you Patrick ... / Julie D. (Friend of Heather's )
... for being the person that helped (and still helps) to make Heather into the wonderful person I got to spend time with during the March for Life. Your legacy doubtless lives on in many other ways but this is the way that I "met" you and am honored to do so. Close
It's been almost a year since I last wrote to you here... though you know you've been on my mind and in my heart all along.
Wow, so much has been going on with me. Things that didn't seem like so much at the time, but looking back... wow. I described it once as being like the changing of the seasons... so natural and gradual. You don't notice the changes so much as they are occurring, but suddenly you become aware of them, in their cumulative effect. That is how my life and I have been changing over this past year.
I'd ask you whether you can believe all the changes... but I know that not only can you believe them, but you probably had a hand in bringing some of them about! You were faithful to me in life... I know that you are even more faithful in the Eternal Life. You couldn't bear to let me just drift away from you. You were far too responsible to me. I know that I would not be where I am without you. I know that you are a most dutiful deputy of God and His Holy Will... right there with my guardian angel, no doubt!
It goes without saying that I still wish you were here incarnate. But I no longer indulge that wish--I am not telling you anything you don't already know. Wishes are for this world, and I have developed many new ones in the last years. And I know that's exactly what you would want... exactly the way it should be... exactly the way it must be.
We are still united in our Lord, and as long as I grow closer to Him, I shall also draw closer to you and my other departed loved ones, whom I also think of often. In the end, we truly are just one family. And if I bring some new family members with me (a husband, children, grandchildren) then our reunion will only be all the happier! May it be so. In the meantime, I am sure there are many children in Heaven, little innocent souls who never got to know a human father's love, who must be all too happy to cling to you, wonderful father you are by nature, and whom I am sure you have adopted!
Until we meet again, dearest, keep helping my guardian angel watch over me, and keep encouraging me on!
Happy birthday, my angel! If you still lived within time, you'd be turning 27 today. I still wish as much as ever that you were here. I often think about what our life might be like... if only...
But sadness is only temporary these days. I am happy--and I know you are even happier than me, happier than I can even imagine.
One of my work friends has her birthday today too, so I can still celebrate and be festive a bit.
Today is also Mardi Gras! I could really get festive and celebrate with that. But I will be observing it quietly this evening with a scripture study class in my parish, focusing on the Passion narratives.
Lent starts tomorrow, and it is my favorite season of the year. It's a little sad, but mostly, it is just quiet and peaceful and expectant. It's the season of new inspiration, new growth, and new life. Springtime of the spirit!
I love you, my Patrick. I rely upon your prayers for me. Help me to do well and to make you and our Lord proud!
If I had to lose you the way I lost you, I am thankful I lost you near Easter.
For the first time in my life, this year I "got" Easter. I got the joy, the peace, the triumph, the hope... and unspeakable consolation. From the Lord... and from you.
You have experienced your own Easter, the eternal Easter of Heaven. And by the Lord's grace, I shall experience my Easter too. In no time at all.
If I had to lose you all, I am glad it was the way I lost you--and not because our love died. Our love will never die. When I am blessed to enter Heaven, our love will still be there. Only better and stronger than ever!
At the same time, I have also gained love for my own life, my life here on Earth. That isn't to say that the tiniest bit of my love for you has been diminished. Only that my heart has grown so great that it can hold so much more love in addition! This is the miracle of grief's healing. It is, in itself, a prefiguration of my own Easter. A new beginning.
I know I have your love, your blessing, and your prayers. You have mine too! I love you and I miss you. I always will. But I know everything is going to be all right!
The past nearly 10 months have been full of "firsts."
August came, and it was my first "anniversary" without you. It likely would have been the month when we got married.
November came, and it was my first birthday and Thanksgiving without you. I got a year older. And you haven't aged a day.
December came, and it was my first Christmas without you, and in January, the first New Year that I faced without you--and the bright future we had planned.
February has brought my first Valentine's Day without my special Valentine. And tomorrow, 20 February, will be the first birthday you won't celebrate. At least not on Earth.
In among all those big "firsts", of course, have been countless moments and days and weeks that have been a very far cry from the same moments and days and weeks of a year earlier, when you were always with me, if only on the other end of a telephone line.
This April 28th, I will have been without you for a full year. After that, I won't be able to look back just a year to when I was with you. And the years are just going to keep on progressing, carrying me farther and farther away from the time I was with you, my beloved.
It seems so impossible...
But there is also the strange paradox... that even as time takes me farther from the time when we were together, it also (I believe) takes me toward a time when we will be reunited. Granted, this is a matter of faith. But faith is truth.
My sympathy goes out to all family and friends / Sherry Kimbler (Passerby) I am so sorry for your loss of Patrick. I know you are all devastated. He is so young and so handsome. He looks like he was really doing something with his life. He is definitely one to be proud of. I hope that some day the pain in your hearts will not hurt as badly as it does now. I came across Patrick's name when I was helping a friend with her website. My son, Nicholas Floriana is also on here. It breaks my heart to see all these young people that have passed away and haven't had a chance to live their lives, get married, have children, celebrate anniversaries and birthdays. It is all a tragedy. I will pray for all of you and here is a dove for Patrick.
Friends/ Selma Flynn (none)
To all Patrick's friends: You should be very proud of Patrick. He is a very good looking young man. One day Patrick was flying, and he was flying so high he saw the golden gates of Heaven, and when he looked, the gate was open. God was there with open arms. Rest in peace. You are a beautiful person.
Eulogy for my Beloved / Heather Patrick was special in so many ways.
He was special for his special line of work; how many of us can say that we made it rain, that we guarded and saved forests and all the life that flourishes there, or that we patrolled the veins and arteries of one of our nation’s most vital industries? He had unique abilities and a passion for serving others. He would have risked his life for complete strangers, or for creatures who could not defend themselves. He would have gone to any length to ensure the safety and future of his country.
Patrick was also special for what he never had to work at—relating to others. He had an effortless way of mixing with others, of showing interest in others’ lives and well-being. He had a special gift for speaking to people in ways they could best understand. He had an intuitive sense of when he was needed, and what to do for those in need. His generosity and selflessness were extraordinary.
As an example... Last July, unknown to me, I had fallen prey to a life-threatening bacterial infection. And like an angel from heaven, Patrick had returned home from working in Michigan, at just the right time. The day after his return, I awoke with such a severe fever that I couldn’t think straight, and my entire body was racked with convulsions. If it weren’t for Patrick, I might never have been able to call for help and get the medical attention I needed. I would have quickly been consumed by the fever and the infection. And some ten months ago, I would have been in his place, he in mine, and my family in his family’s. He truly saved me. Not only did he save me, he stayed with me for two weeks, attending to my every need, until I had fully recovered.
That is the kind of special Patrick was.
Patrick was a passionate, intense man, full of conviction. He could be headstrong and stubborn at times, and quite outspoken. It was rare for him to mince words. These were not necessarily bad qualities, of course—in many cases, they were a great asset—but in combination with my own (different) strong convictions and my own (different) sort of character, there was often some friction. As a result, we sometimes had a stormy relationship! But there was never a storm that could wreck our relationship or weaken our love for one another.
And now, the biggest storm of all has come upon us, catching us unaware. It is difficult not to feel wrecked. Knowing him, he felt wrecked too, at first, for leaving behind those he loved, those who have needed him so many times. But regardless of its seeming severity and shocking suddenness, this too is just another storm. Like all other storms, it will weaken and die away. And when it does, everyone will realize that he has not weakened or died away, and he never will. I know that he will always be part of me, heart, mind, soul, and even body, since he played such a critical role in preserving, nourishing, and nursing my body back to health when it could have been destroyed.
In times of harmony, and in times of crisis, Patrick was a constant source of grace and love in my life, and in so many people’s. He loved freely and completely. He was full of strength and beauty, in every way, and on every level, physical and spiritual. How extraordinary was it for me then, that he loved, cherished, respected, protected, and rejoiced in me! And how on earth could I ever express my joy and gratitude that I was his and he was mine? He was, quite simply, the greatest blessing I’ve ever received.
Being a blessing, he was truly given to me by God, a great gift from Heaven. He has made my life more complete, fulfilled, and meaningful. He has made me a better person. Therefore, how can I begrudge the Lord to take him back home to Heaven? And how can anyone say his life was too short when he has done so much and touched so many? He has done more, and made more of a difference, in his life than I may do in my own life in a hundred years.
So, to my beloved Patrick, I bid a fond, whole-hearted bon voyage, into the glorious skies of Heaven. Until we meet again, my Dearest of the Dearest, may you fly higher and farther, to your heart’s content, safe in the palm of the Lord’s hand.
Yours truly, and forever, with all the love my heart can hold,
Sweet Song / Heather
This song really reminds me of Patrick, for lots of reasons, but especially because he was always singing, and I just loved the sound of his voice! It carries a message in which sorrow and hope are combined. It's by Yuki Kajiura, and is the ending theme to a video game called Xenosaga II: Jenseits von Gut und Bose.
I remember the days of summer: We were so close together. You were humming the songs of silence, sweetly plucking the harp of wind
Every moment was sacred and mystic. We were near to the shore of eternity. The days are gone, and will never come back.
You were a half of me... long time ago.
Life can never be perfect without you, but I'm still on my way to the future, for I remember your sweet song in my mind.
To the lost horizon, I'm calling your name again and again...
Though the night is so dark, a new dawn is so close to me. Sun will come and shine on all seeds of hope-- Bud and bloom!
I remember the days of winter: You were sitting beside me. All alone in the shuttered places, we were waiting for thawing day.
Every moment was sacred and mystic. We were hoping the night was eternal. The days are gone, and so far away.
I'm still singing your sweet song for long, long windy nights. Close
Pain and Promises / Heather Barrett (Fiancee)
Words cannot describe how deeply, genuinely hurt I am by the loss of our beloved Patrick.
In the brief time we had together, he was my love and joy and pride. He was my friend, my helper, my lover, and my beloved. Things weren't always smooth sailing--we both had our share of rough edges and sharp corners. But all along, from beginning to end, we rubbed off on each other, and all the rough edges and sharp corners began to smooth away. Not only did we become closer, we always broadened each other's horizons--whether it was me acquiring a taste for beer, or him acquiring a taste for Japanese animation (just to name a couple of examples).
But he was so much more than all the things he was when he was here. He was my entire future as well. He was the man I was going to marry and remain married to forever--"divorce" was not in our vocabulary. He was the man who was going to make me a mother and be the world's greatest father. He was the man who was going to help me teach our child to read, ride a bicycle, and be good to others. He was the man who was going to beam with pride at the school plays, the graduations, the weddings, and the birth of grandchildren. He was the man who was going to build a happy home and a prosperous future and a golden old age with me. He was the man who was going to help me through childbirth, and through any sickness or injury, great or small. He was the man who was going to see the world with me when we retired.
Ideally, I would have had a whole lifetime of happiness, wisdom, and strength--not to mention children and grandchildren--to draw upon by the time I became his widow. But as it's happened, I've become his widow before I even got to become his bride. Words can't describe my loss. Words can't describe the sadness, anger, and despair I feel from time to time. Or how dark and unknown my future looks. Or how alone and afraid that makes me feel. Sometimes I feel about life what most people feel about death!
But I was not Patrick's beloved for no reason. He loved it when I was strong and spirited and unafraid. I believe he admired my intellect and my spiritual grace. I believe that he still loves me has very great faith in me--faith that I can continue living, that I can forge a new, bright future, and that I will come back to him as an even better, stronger, woman. I just have to! That's the least I can do to honor his memory. Close
The hosting of this website is sponsored by Heather Barrett, so that a great man may be forever loved, remembered, and cherished, and in order to keep alive his belief in helping others in need.
Memory-of.com made a donation to American National Red Cross to commemorate the sponsoring of this website.
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