PattybytheSea

 Please care for our family up there like you did down here. We all miss you so so so so much. I just now had this feeling to call you. For some reason I wanted to FaceTime you but you never had an iPhone. It was like my memory totally forgot that you were gone. It was like an instinct to call you; which I guess shouldn’t be surprising since we spoke daily. I wish you were here for the holidays, well every day, but these holidays were definitely different with all that is going on. I would’ve loved nothing more than to sit at the table in the kitchen and just talk, smell your cooking, KYW1060 on, the window cracked and a chill coming through. I wish I just spent more time. I know we all say that after the fact. We definitely had so much fun with you. The longer we are apart the more I realize you were such a vital part of our growth and success and just who we are. I miss our talks and our drives around anywhere. I sure do miss you. Bobby 

 Mom, it's your birthday. As much as I want you back, I am thankful for what you gave me and your family and friends. Today is hard. I can't lie. I try to think about other things, get through the day, but it's hard. I posted a picture of you on Facebook. It almost feels like you will see it and just comment something funny, but alas, that's not happening. I am not going to cry again. I just don't want to go down that path right now. I want to be happy on the day you were born many years ago that turned into creating lives of the 5 of us and lending your love and friendship and motherly/sisterly advice to so many. I was delighted to see a friend of so many years comment on my post and I want to include it in this post. I don't want to forget anything...nothing before, nothing during, and now, nothing after. We all miss you. We miss you so much. I remain, as always, your son. Happy Birthday Mom. I hope you're having a Peps, maybe a piece of pie or cake or wha

  It is impossible for me to think of holidays and not think of the two of you. I simply love this picture. Typical Joe face. Excited to cut the bird. And you behind him so excited. Does life get any better? Nope. You came up in conversation tonight. The night you left us. I sometimes wonder what the last meal you made was. The last ingredient. The last thing you wrapped. The last thing you prepared. It’s somewhat dark but also just makes me realize how you helped us survive. And well, all those days slicing lunch meat for sandwiches for kids lunches, work lunches, cakes from the bakery, your work to feed. That’s so important. Tonight I saw all the food we brought. I thought about how much you loved cooking (crying as a type this). It was truly your office. I remember getting cheese in Southwest. A dip in the pickle juice. Remember Manoa, seeing the woman you worked with. I remember the shore. I wonder how many people at food you prepared. I remember helping you with you

I had a dream during a nap. Mom is speaking to me. I have zero doubt. Like why would Theresa be in my dream? And it was vivid. Man. They all were. I got scared and woke up at one point. But man. Mom was sitting up in bed. Which of course, she never did but she does in my dream. Her skin is very young and no blemishes or wrinkles. Theresa is to the left, in a plastic chair. Mom is sitting Indian style. Theresa is touching her hand or leg and says, “I’m here for you Patti.” Mom is looking at her as she says it. And then mom turns slowly towards me and says. “See Bobby, that’s the kind of attitude I want around me....” and I woke up. 

In class right now. It is a brisk, er cold, morning in the Philly area. Lots of craziness going on. Hoping that the next few days are less crazy than the last week was. I am on a mad dash to get out of here, but don’t want to make any rash decisions. This morning I really can just see you enjoying your coffee, the sun on the concrete front steps, a bus or two coming down Grant and the sound traveling through the clean front door and out the back window. I can maybe see you on the phone with one of the girls, maybe Lam coming down the steps and you guys having a little slow, quiet convo. Maybe a text from your sister or me to see what you’re up to. You probably suggesting we should go somewhere or do something. Oh how I wish I could just do it that easily now. Maybe you had plans to “run some errands” or pick up a Craiglist find. Kathy is shutting the trailer down this morning. It always makes me sad as we close out another year. I got down a few times. Always a nice time. I often wond

In some alternate reality, I am just sitting here with my windows open as the city quiets down and folks on the beast coast enjoy a nice fall night. Someone has a fire pit going in the town and the smoke seems to travel well here. I am pulled back to The Can, to The Biscuit. The smell of dried burning leaves and the world quieting down. Now, maybe more than ever, I know that peace and happiness are so much more valuable than debates and criticism. Somewhere we got caught in the blur of life. I blame technology. Ha. I think about what you would be doing. A relaxing Sunday of visits, a pot of gravy with some ravs, maybe a roast and some veggies. A call to ask me if I want to stop by for dinner. How I thought those invites would never end. How I value your cooked meals filling my belly with nutrients and love and the simple fact you just liked having us over, just liked company. Just liked people. I think about you taking your boxes of fall and Halloween stuff out. I can imagine those tin

I saw a story about a chef, 49, who died from a brain aneurysm. She had no idea. She had texted family she was feeling great.  Chicago Mourns Death of Adored Goddess & Grocer Executive Chef I read a quote from another story about her and immediately thought of you. “I’m incredibly sad and missing her, and I always have those memories,” Pinkney said, reminiscing about when Dedinsky first walked into her restaurant years ago. “But I know she was happy until the end, because she didn’t know that was the end. She died at her happiest.”  I am so happy your last memories are of the beach, your sister, your kids, your grandkids. I am happy to know that those thoughts, are your last...stamped in time...forever on your soul.  I have more to write, but I have to step away. You are so so so sooooooooooo missed. After typing that I just said, "Soooooooooooooooooooooooooo big." God. I never will forget you saying that to so many babies.  Always in my heart Mom. There forever. Bobby

If I be the first of us to die, Let grief not blacken long your sky. Be bold yet modest in your grieving. There is a change but not a leaving. For just as death is part of life, The dead live on forever in the living. And all the gathered riches of our journey, The moments shared, the mysteries explored, The steady layering of intimacy stored, The things that made us laugh or weep or sing, The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring, The wordless language of look and touch, The knowing, Each giving and each taking, These are not flowers that fade, Nor trees that fall and crumble, Nor are they stone, For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand. What we were, we are. What we had, we have. A conjoined past imperishably present. So when you walk the woods where once we walked together And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow, Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land, And spotting

I will always remember that day we were sitting in that rental you all got that summer. I remember how muggy it was. I remember coming down there and it was just you and I. I remember we were just relaxing. I went and saw a friend that night. Kind of weird cause it was not planned. I remember I really had a good day and we were all in a good mood. You made me a nice little breakfast. That day was big for me and we got a chance to talk and just be happy..and then we went and had dinner at that Italian place. I don't remember it. I remember just being so elated that I couldn't even really remember walking. I remember getting a buffalo chicken wrap. You had some pasta. Of course it was too much for you. I remember the table we sat at. Families enjoying time and meals and just perfect. I remember just walking around OC after and just kinda floating. Content with the day and with dinner and hanging out. I remember calling Kathy and we were probably so loud and excited and crazy and

Out of nowhere a co-worker and friend, Melissa, yesterday asked me if I ever had a BLT with sweet corn. She's from Iowa and I don't know what goes on in Iowa. Ha. Very sweet person. Anyhow, she asked me if I ever had that and I am like, "yes, but not with corn on it..." She replied, "you don't put the corn on it..." and I immediately laughed. One thinking of some corn on the cob on some sandwich and just thinking of corn on a sandwich (yuck). In any case, she said I need to try it some time. It reminded me of those days I would stay home from school growing up. Watch the typical shows. Transformer and Tom & Jerry cartoons. Then probably Silver Spoons or What's Happening and you would make me a BLT. They were soooooooooo good. I could go for two these days. Any how, I can remember them so vividly. As the girls were running around destroying the house, the "prince" got to sit on the couch and enjoy his sandwich and TV. Those days it was j

I can only imagine this is where you are. I saw this tonight during class. I had to take a still. I imagine this is truly where you are. It was beautiful here earlier. Today was really busy with work and now with class, but I take my peeks. This sunset and the water...just perfect. I imagine you walking this beach as the sunsets. Maybe a good beer and a good meal at the Brick Alley and a good meal. Oh what we wouldn't give to have that time we all had that weekend. I wish I went up that time you and Lisa and the boys went up. I don't know why I didn't. I think I had something else going on or just wanted it to be you and Lisa's time up there. I know you're around. Send us some love. Bobby

That title is actually from Pop Pop. He couldn't speak in his bed and he would mouth the word two and do the signal for two and that meant "I will have two beers and we'll go fishing..." Well, two years. How quickly life has passed. It seems like a blur. Today is definitely not a day of celebration. I hope that at some point the memory of this day is replaced with the memory of something so much better or that I just outright forget what happened on this day. It almost seems like I’ve been punked in the worst way possible. It’s sad to see others lose parents. It’s sad to see them struggle so much with this loss. Even perfect strangers I have come across or friends from the past who just write me and say, “I really miss my mom today…” And from that I will say, that’s completely normal. It’s still hard to explain to people that have their mother around. For some it was the father that was the rock of their family and they lose him; as a friend’s wife and a guy I went to