One More Wake to Go

Today I made the trek with many of my coworkers to the outlying suburbs to pay my respects to Patrick. Wakes are so hard. More so when the deceased looks like he is sleeping. It appears that his injuries were blunt force trauma to his chest and midsection. There were no visible bruises or swelling on his face. He looked like he was going to sit up and say "Hey Joanna - loan me a dollar. I need a soda."

We used to do that, back and forth. I'd lend him a buck, he'd buy me a taco. He was my first friend at this job. I'd sit on the desk in his cube and yank the cord on his mouse or jiggle his keyboard. It would infuriate him, but he'd give me that grin and tell me I had better watch it.

Patrick had just turned 21, ten days before his accident. That's what so hard to swallow. He had his whole life ahead of him. He loved living here in Virginia but missed his native Florida and treasured the quick trips he'd make back home, wearing cutoffs on the plane so he and his Dad could go fishing right from the airport. His Dad said he missed him so and cried on my shoulder saying he was his baby boy.

I've had my closure with Patrick. Now I wait another week and I'll have closure for Beth at her wake.

Rest in the Lord my sweet friend.

Red, I loved you like a Mom.

God bless you.