One-of-a-kind. Right. What's that mean?
All the one-of-a-kind people (isn't that an oxymoron) (I can hear Pat now having something to say about the "moron" part) ... that I know ...have something in common. They seem, the sane ones, of course, to have a gift. They distribute the gift equally and specifically. They seem to have enough sense of security in their own worth and value to want others to have that, too. The opposite of squeaker-wheelers, similar in some deep part of their spirit to contented four-hundred pound pigs, contradictory to the self-righteous, self-pitying and self-centered-fearful. Captains of fairness. Leaders who stand at your side, not in the back lines or high on some distant hill with condescending binoculars and vague destructive directions for the loyal but ignorant. They want people to grow, not wither. They are healthy, their immune systems fend off indulgent negativity, they are here to educate others in the ways of happiness and constructiveness, perkiness and jokery; they generate and tolerate over negating and berating.
In Pat's case, his nuclear strength spirit was not even overcome by alcohol; when he'd had enough, he'd had enough and that was it. So let's raise a toast of carrot juice to the rainbow man. The man of colors and shorts, not jetblack, starched, arched pretensions. The man who left joy in his Will and life where someone might easily have ended up bleak and lost. These are the undying suns of the universe, these one-of-a-kinders. They just get kinder and kinder.
love to Pat,
William
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Joy, that's it...just by being Pat, he brought joy to those who observed him whether they knew him or not, how could you not feel that with his colorful self.
ReplyDeleteLots of thoughts about Pat at the Holiday time. He didn't like to have to give gifts at a certain time, he didn't like to "have" to do anything if possible. He wanted to do it because he felt right about it. I have decided he was actually my guardian angel, unbeknowns to him, it was his karma to come and be with me and make all my dreams come true. At times it was difficult, the country boy trying to please the city girl who was always questioning and thinking and never stopped hoping he would understand what she was reading or saying. He grew way beyond his expectations because he loved her, but it was not always easy for him. He might have been happier remaining in Sunny California, with a big bank account and a fancy car. Instead I took him off to the farm and later to New England and the Inn. He loved the movie business where he was "boss" and everyone took care of him. He was also making sure his crews and family were good. Finally the move to Mexico gave him a chance to really be who ever he needed to be. He had nobody to please and he loved it and it was the best year of his life. I think about that a lot. Often now I think about things I would like to share with him and maybe I am. Last night on a Christmas Special that took place in Chicago, I thought a lot about when we first met and were there on location two times that first year. It was also where Pat took Xochi on her first job as a PA. He shared his room and his night time chocolates. He was very special and I doubt we will ever run into anyone like him.
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