Most of the time, there were many other kids around, but I didn’t participate. I’d only sit and commiserate with a female visitor or two. I wasn’t even aware of it being nighttime when I’d wake up and go home for breakfast. But that’s the kid.
I became aware of Pat’s death again at retirement time. A time of great boredom. And that’s when it hit me right in the face and all the memories came flooding back, so fast that I couldn’t write them down quickly enough. And so . . . the story.