Patrick’s Cane

Today is the 10th anniversary of his death.

I am winding through memories of my family these days.  I miss my brother Patick.  He was the best brother.  I had all his important belongings, though I gave some to his kids.  I was closer to him than his kids were.  I kept his ironwood cane with the hammered silver tip, and some of his writing and music.

Right, a pic of Patrick and my brother, Michael, walking on the Santa Barbara pier, one of the last times they were all alive and together with our oldest brother, Stephen.

“Iconic Patrick objects: sheet music, clarinet (when younger),
upright piano graduating to a baby grand, plaid wool hat, and
his ironwood silver tipped cane after he hurt his leg.
He looked roguish, especially with his devilish dimpled grin…
A ladies man even with a limp!
And… can’t forget the can of Coors beer.
Sadly in the end, a case a day.
I miss him most of any family member or friend. 
He was the brother I had the most fun with, my pal.
He always had time for me, especially when my heart was breaking.
I wish Mitchell could have really gotten to know him.  I miss him.”

Above, all my brothers in a picture at the earliest age that I can remember, as I was born when this was taken… Still, I wasn’t at this shindig, too young.

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About dkatiepowellart

hollywood baby turned beach gurl turned steel&glass city gurl turned cowgurl turned herb gurl turned green city gurl. . . artist writer photographer. . . cat lover but misses our big dogs, gone to heaven. . . buddhist and interested in the study of spiritual traditions. . . foodie, organic, lover of all things mik, partner in conservation business mpfconservation, consummate blogger, making a dream happen, insomniac who is either reading buddhist teachings or not-so-bloody mysteries or autobio journal thangs early in the morning when i can't sleep
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