One Year

RIP Patrick Hickeythis is the first draft of the piece I did for Patrick for my senior show.

The day before yesterday was a really rough intro into graduation weekend. I received hard words to hear/read via various sources: emails, texts, and verbal communication. The different things had no correlation, other than bad timing. Somethings were good for me to hear, ways in which I have failed and now need to reconcile and fix. Somethings I never anticipated to hear/read. Somethings really really hurt to hear/read. Somethings confuse me. Somethings make feelings of bitterness bubble in my stomach.

And then the things that I don't think about when entering into major times of transition finally arose. Or maybe just the sudden realization of what is coming to a close, things that will never be again, things that I didn't realize meant so much to me popped to the surface. Graduation is good, but difficult. College has been so huge for me. The events that have occurred in the past 5 years have changed me in the most immense ways. Some stuff happened to do with college itself, and some stuff happened outside of the school bubble. Just SO much stuff!

It's scary seeing it all end. It is scary saying goodbye or long farewells to friends. You never know when a short term goodbye could turn into a forever goodbye.

Last year, today, June 13, a friend of mine named Patrick Hickey died. I wrote a blog post about it the day after it happened. You can read it here. I also wrote a song the day after as an attempt to acknowledge and deal with the loss. You can listen to it and download it for free here.
I actually ended up writing 2 songs about Patrick. the first one is called "Patrick" and is simply a musical regurgitation of how my insides were feeling in the moment I was told he had died. And the second one is called "Swimming" about the experience I had about a week after his death where I felt like he visited me in a dream, consoling me in his death, combined with another experience I had about a month later while meditating. It was very mysterious. You can read about the mysterious experience I had while mediating here. and you can listen to the song "Swimming" here.
Although I have known a really huge number of people who have died, each death does not get easier to deal with. Each one feels more and more real. Patrick's death for some reason, of all the people I have known who have died, really hit me harder than any death ever. And I am thankful that I did talk about his death on this blog through out the past year. I am thankful I can look back and read occasional raw emotions and see how his death has changed me. The pain of loss has made me a better person. I think true pain gives me two options, to either become bitter and cold or to be softened, heart cracked, and more at peace with the powerful swing of life. Patrick's death has softened me, opening my heart so much more to God. I had a big crack that could only be healed by God. I can look back over the past year's worth of blog posts and see that God has helped me in SO many ways to become a better person. In all that we lose, there is so much to gain. I could never say that the things I learned about how I need to better myself are more valuable than Patrick's life. I would rather he be alive than I improve in anyway. But I am thankful that he is there working with God to see how I need to change and evolve to truly love and trust God more in fear and reverence.

Patrick, thank you for your friendship and your love to your millions of friends. I know you are still present in our lives. Oh goodness, my heart still drops when I let myself visualize your face, your being in the places I remember you best. I can still picture you hanging out with all of us, smirking and dropping witty comments. You were such a unique soul. I've never met anyone like you my friend. When I see boys who look like you, my stomach lurches. When I see someone with hair like yours or that mysterious look in their eyes that you so deeply contained, I am stunned. When I hear SO many different musicians I am immediately reminded of you. When I a Pabst can I think of you and laugh. When I see fixed gear bikes, there you are. When I see unsafe drivers, my heart rattles, reminding me of how you died.

Saturday, June 13th, 2009, we will be thinking of you and celebrating your life all day, in each thing that we do or say. You are present. We miss you. We love you. Today is a really really hard day. Be with us in our transitions. Tomorrow is graduation. It was a turbulent weekend last year, and it is a turbulent one this year. But this year I am not alone. That was the hardest thing last year. I was in Northern California, my family was not there, my friends were gone in other places, and everyone who knew Patrick was in Seattle or other places. Your death was heavy and hard to grasp when I was all by myself. This year, I am with my family, I am with my friends, and I am in Seattle. We will celebrate you. I have already cried a lot yesterday and this morning. And if I am to cry again today and tomorrow, so be it. Just help me to keep moving this weekend Patrick. Be with me and with all your friends, show us your presence. And remind us why we need God to keep us going.

Miss you and Love you until we shall see you once again illuminated in celestial lights.

And to those of you who ride Fixed Gear bikes, please please wear a helmet, and consider getting brakes.

1 comment:

Alexandra said...

That last phrase you wrote in italics made me cry. I don't really know what else to say, but that your writing is so inspiring, and gives me a lot of hope in troubled times. I know it does for others too. Thank you for being the amazing sister and friend you are, Moorea. Your strength gives others hope for the future. I love you forever.