Terry Lynn Fitzpatrick

I remember so very many things and there aren't words enough, there isn't heart enough, there isn't anything in the human way that could express what my memory of you is. Your laugh, your smile, those blue eyes, your words, your YOU. Something entirely inexpressable and a thing that no other person could be. Precious. Your carvings, the earrings you made me for my cheerleading, or just because you loved me. The talks when I could speak to no other. You made life softer for me, for everyone. So very much more gentle. And Love. That is my memory of you. Just love. That Father's Day when I had written you every word I could conceive of to tell you how much I love you and what you were to me. A father. And you read it and those blue eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, welled with tears, but in a way that reflected the comprehension of love I was giving to you. Tears that reflected the love you had for me and for Johnette. And you were always my supporter. The one cheering me on in my wonder for life while always keeping me grounded in what my reality was. Yes, all these beautiful things, and that's why it is inexpressable what you really were. We who were blessed enough to be your family, who ARE blessed enough to be your family and be in your world, all those whose lives you entered, however briefly... you are something we hold and keep in those areas of the soul that are most lent to the finer emotions of us. Yes, you, beautiful you, are with us all in your most beautiful essence. You and I may be the only ones who really know what this means, but you brought me back. Though you had already moved on to the next adventure of your spirit, you stayed with me in my darkest hour and never waned until I was back where I needed to be. I feel you and I love you and I miss you. And family is forever. Love is forever. You are forever....

I remember one summer, when Uncle Terry lived in Granny Liles' old house.  Every single day, he would come up to Mammie's early in the morning, and I would get up soon after and he and I would drink coffee.  We'd watch TV for a while, and, then, we would always go out to the shed and gather our fishing gear up, check our lines and lures, then we'd be off to Wayne's pond for a few hours of good bass fishing.  He would always be in relentless pursuit of his nemesis, the great 8-pounder, "Bob the Bass", as he'd proudly named the "one that got away"!  One such day, we were enjoying a breezy afternoon of casting and chatting when Uncle Terry suddenly snatched the rod backwards and declared "I've hung a BIG BASS!!!!".  He stood up, snatched on that rod like he'd just snagged a whale and was reeling for dear life!  I watched the line, and although I couldn't see it moving in the water, I assumed that he'd at last captured the elusive Bob.  However, excitement soon turned to disappointment as the taught line went limp and Uncle Terry decided that the fish had thrown the lure.  So, he decided to go to the other side of the pond to try his luck.  I assumed his place, in turn, and cast towards the same spot in the water where he'd hooked the fish, hoping that, with a little luck, I might get a second shot at it.  So, after my second cast, I decided to let my lure sink a little deeper down in the water.  That was when I felt it.  Uncle Terry hadn't snagged Bob at all, but, rather he'd snagged a MONSTER of a sunken log!!!  I just didn't have the heart to tell him that his thrilling battle with Bob had, in fact, been nothing more than a hapless hook's brush with water-logged wood!  So, he never did know that the closest he'd came to Bob that day was the fact that his lure had been in the same pond!!!!  One of a thousand memories I'll hold on to, locked away safely in my heart where nothing can take it away from me.