We are together here, on this unluckiest of days, Friday the 13th, 2013, to mourn the death and celebrate the life of Patrick Richards. Other people have spoken at his funeral, but Pat always knew I was a writer, so to honor him my eulogy will be in written down.
Pat never mentioned my writing his eulogy. He did not think he was going to die so soon, none of us did, and his passing came as quickly and with as much force as the cancer that took him.
Pat had a strong will to live, and we expected him to keep going, to see his brother John and reminisce about his childhood, and to celebrate the coming of the New Year. I expected him to gather his strength for one more bingo game, one more new release Redbox movie, and of course, one final Christmas.
I figured I’d be delivering a special Christmas gift in a few weeks; sadly that never came.
In all the years that I’ve known him, he loved two things: movies and bingo. I can still recall the long hours he spent at our local bingo hall trying to win that day’s jackpot, and if he won, tipping those who he thought brought him luck.
He never dared to believe that he won by his own accord, his own luck, and praised those around him for calling out the winning numbers.
As far as movies go, he was an equal opportunity watcher, and in his final days, he fittingly chose comedies to elevate some of the tension and pain he was going through.
There was a lot of talk about Pat being a Marine, and though I asked him about his military service years ago, he chose to remain humble about it. He stated that he was a Marine, and left it at that. I never saw his old uniform, or a sword, or even a hat for that matter, but I knew up until the very end that he carried the Marine spirit of toughness within him all his life. As my mother said at the funeral, he was strong when it came to his pain tolerance, and all the nurses admired him for that.
My mother has consistently said, “there’s never enough time,” and in matters of the heart, this will always ring true. Even if he lived until 100 years old, there would never be enough minutes in a day or months in year to share stories or live new adventures. Such is the fleeting nature of time here on Earth, and the tragedy of being a mere mortal.
In his last few months Pat accepted a Catholic priest’s blessing, and I think came to believe in God. I think this came him peace in knowing that this is not the end, but merely a bus stop in life, since the soul continues to travel on into eternity.
May Pat rest in peace with all his military honors and fun Earthly memories.