Today was a dark, empirically dark day in my life. Today I curse the big guy once again. I am supposed to be strong and supposed to have faith, today I have neither strength nor faith.
I’ll be gone for a couple of days and for the first time in over a year. I’m setting the website aside. I’m helping my family take care of things that I would never have thought I had the strength to do. But that’s what big brothers do for their little brothers. I have the ability to take some time, even with the owner of my radio group giving me the opportunity with a phone call tonight. But I won’t be answering anything or doing anything. All I can do is be stunned for the news that shocked me to the bone and has me stunned beyond belief.
Today I lost my brother Patrick.
I was in the studio when I had gone upstairs to check messages on my phone because I had a feeling and I saw that I had a message. It was from my sister. I hadn’t checked it because I had to get back to the studio and on the air. I did my break and my phone rang again.
“Sean , it’s Kiri. He didn’t make it.”
“Pat, he’s gone”
I called for Jay the Market Manager and told him that I had to get to Ft. Worth.
I made arrangements and Tony took me to the airport.
When I got here everyone was doing what I expected, trying to make the uneasy pain go away.
All I can think of was the last words I heard from my younger brother Patrick just four days ago.
“I can’t be any prouder of you big bro. You went to St. Louis and kicked ass. I am so proud of you. I’ll see you real soon” he said.
“I’ll come up there or maybe you and Liam can come up here for a weekend and we can play in a tournament or two up here.” I replied.
“I’d love that bro, I love you.” Said my brother for the last time.
“I love you too Pat.” I said, not knowing that I would never ever talk to him again.
There is a part of me that mourns with incredible sadness. I cried at my desk today and cursed the big guy. I cursed that he didn’t make it
It was his time was the way my parents tried to say.
I don’t accept that. I don’t accept a lot of things now.
I didn’t like it at all when I had to bury my younger sister. I didn’t think that I would have to ever do it again. I thought if I had anyone to bury it would be my over eighty-year-old grandmother. I didn’t think it would be my brother.
Oh how I miss him.
There is only one story that I wish to remember to discuss at this time. When my grandfather died, the three grandsons all went outside his house and we brought a bottle of Crown. We sat around and all broke down and cried. We opened the bottle of Crown and toasted his memory.
Today I can’t walk straight, I can’t think straight. All I can do is feel numb.
I saw on the news tonight what I think was the accident scene. All I could do was dry heave. I didn’t know what I was looking at until I knew immediately what it was. All I can do is sit here and think about my brother.
He was an intense soccer player and was competitive to the bone. I can’t remember how many times I was screaming for him as he did the impossible when he played the game.
However, the proudest that I ever had been for him was when I came to see the work that he did on my parents new house. He gutted a 4 bedroom and recreated it with my mom’s vision. He saw something and kept trying new things, different routing here, different texture there until he got it right. He was about done with the house touching up things here and there.
But alas it is unfinished. But it is still a masterpiece.
Unfortunately the great masters always leave some work undone.
Patrick M. Donahue 2-14-73 / 5-5-06
Rest In Peace my brother. I will miss you now and forever.