eulogy,
This is not supposed to be happening.But it is.But for the next three minutes, if you will permit me, I need to pretend this all is a bad dream.Patrick Dixon Bice ByrneThe Dixon was for me and Pat’s grandfather, James DixonThe Patrick was for his great grandfather, James PatrickHis was proud to carry the Bice name in honor of his mother and so many.PDBBA good son.A good brotherA good grandsonA good uncleA good cousinA good nephewA soon to be good godfather AndA good friend to so many.Yet Patrick had his challengesBut don’t we allSometimes he would choose a road less takenBut don’t we allHe had his demons.But don’t we allPatrick was like all of us. a human beingWe tryWe struggleWe liveWe help othersWe succeedWe failLet me tell you a true story that I realize now symbolizes my beloved son, Patrick.Patrick was always good at sports. Once you got him out of bed and on the field he would always excel…When he was about 7 he played lacrosse in Manhasset. His team was Blue. They were losing and needed to score.During this one game he caught a pass and headed downfield to the opposing teams goal.He was graceful. He avoided the first line of defense with ease and slipped into scoring territory twirling his upright stick and zig sagging like a pro….But quickly the opposition descended upon him….we all cheered for the effort by this wonderful boy on the field …but inevitably the red shirts went after him, first one then two and soon they swarmed around him, poking at him, then chopping…he would not stop, he would not give in, he used all his strength to withstand the blows….for as long as he could…but they hacked and hacked at him until he just slowly disappeared – a sinking blue shirt within the waves of red to the green grass below. My belief is that we never fully understood the power of this boy or this manI believe his desire to please exceeded oursI believe his fear of letting people down was crippling to himHe was an artist in our midst.With a heart so bigAnd A soul so deepThat his demons found refugeIn places that where they could not be permanently extracted,only temporarily subdued They say the good die youngI say the hurt die firstPatrick Dixon Bice ByrneHe had wonderful days Patrick was a lifesaving elixir to so manyHe could fix you with a smileIf he was close, you felt better immediatelyWhen he laughed you grew youngerHe gave us… himselfPatrick was a gift To each of us A gift that made each of us feel special…better…completeHe struggled too hard to be that giftThe lacrosse sticks finally took their tollHow many of us could have withstood those blows for so long?We cheered for him then. We cheered for him every day. We cheer for him now.And we will cheer for him forever.