Patrick
by: Angel Friend Nancy Aman, Palm Coast, FL

Saturday Ramblins, Vol. 1, No. 7 (June 27, 1998)

When Patrick was 16 he persuaded me to let him drop out of school because he was failing. He wanted to go a trade school instead. He never did graduate or wear a cap and gown. He left behind a beautiful boy, Tyler, who is now 3 years old.

Soon after PapaJon's story came out, I went to spend the day with my son Chris and his son. They took me to their property, where they will build a new home. They showed me the ravine, where I was taken back to my childhood when I played in the ravine behind my grandma's house. I went there alone and daydreamed; I felt peace there, even at 8 years old.

The night my son was killed, I asked my daughter-in-law if I could have something of Pat's. She gave me the watch I had given him at Christmas. I have worn it everyday since. Chris, who is also having a difficult time accepting Pat's death, said that he, too, wished he had something of Pat's.

While at the ravine I felt it was time for me to give up the watch and give it to Chris, and I did. It was very emotional for both of us. That night at home, before I went to bed, I asked Pat if it was okay with him that I did this. Then I cried; now I not only missed him, but missed having his watch on my wrist.

The next morning, after showing a home to a client, I saw a garage sale and decided, for no reason, to stop. I should have been on my way back to the office, but I looked around. First I saw nothing of interest to me, I then spotted something and walked over to it. It was a ceramic little boy wearing a green cap and gown — his diploma in one hand, an apple in the other and a big smile on his face.

I didn't have my glasses on, but I saw something written on the wooden base. I put my glasses on to read what it said — the name was Patrick. Of course I bought it and brought it home, where I placed in on my angel shelf!

I feel this is Pat's way of smiling and approving of what I had done. The thought that went through my mind was, Mom, I have graduated to a better place, be happy, like me! Perhaps he has graduated from this life to the next.. I miss him and cry for him; but I am trying to smile and let him go. I'm proud that he has "graduated."

This story is a favorite of mine: A procession of children passed into heaven, smiling and holding their lighted candles. One boy sat by himself, looking sad, his candle unlit. Another child asked why his candle wasn't lit? The boy replied, "Every time I light my candle, it is put out with my mother's tears!"

Now I try not to cry so much. I do not wish to put out his light!

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