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Monday, November 13, 2006

Oh no.

I did a bad thing to myself. I got the country song "Elvira" in my head this morning, and I can't get it out. And now it's in your head. Sorry! Help me before I kill again! Remember that infernal doo wop, da doo wop, da mau mau part? Someone should call the intelligence interviewers at Guantanamo about this.

Oh, yeah. We're not allowed to use torture.

I've getting more than the usual number of bizarre random thoughts. Maybe it's part of the grieving process to allow one's black humor to seep back in.

I sure miss Naomi.

5 Comments:

Blogger Susan said...

Hang in there, better times to come.

7:48 PM

 
Blogger Patrick said...

True, true. Thanks.

11:44 AM

 
Blogger terryvnd said...

And He will raise you up on eagles’ wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of His hand...like cures like baby

6:04 PM

 
Anonymous Sandy Cameron said...

PD, my wife is in the same "Group Reunion" as Marion since 1993. The girls meet every Tues AM (& half of the PM). They let me eat lunch with them the odd time when they meet at our house.
Annette & I attended the Memorial Mass for Naomi at OLPH & have read all your Blogs about Naomi.
We were both moved to tears.
For me it was most moving to see the depth of the love that Jack has for the wee Naomi. He could not talk to me about her without tears.
I truly believe she is in Heaven and will be instrumental in your receiving all the strength your family needs.
Love and Peace,
Sandy

2:18 PM

 
Blogger Patrick said...

Hi Sandy:

Good to hear from you. Yeah, my dad took it hard. Beneath his sometimes-crusty exterior he's really baby poop in velour sneaker. (Don't tell him I said that!)

One of the great consolations of Christ's revelation to his Church is the certainty of faith that all baptized young children proceed immediately to eternal union with God.

Through our painful but often joyful journey with Naomi, we got a glimpse of the Father's love for us in giving his only Son.

Mariclare, our four-year-old, calls her Noomster. St. Noomster, pray for us!

Thanks for dropping a line, and for your prayers.

12:09 PM

 

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