Someone who is an activist for some cause. But now he's had a few mild strokes, seems to be slipping into dementia or possibly Alzheimer's, and is back to drinking and attempting to be the big, tough guy he always thought he was. It is because of the way he lived both his private and public lives. He liked the feeling of the wind in his hair, even when there wasn’t much of it left. No one’s going to know what that means. Sorry to not comment earlier; I have been ignoring my reading. So the dilemma becomes which story to tell; angel or demon. "How did he feel about his family?" There are many of you here who have entered his life more recently, and I hope that my memories of him ring true to the Brian you knew as well. The list goes on and on… my dad was my baseball and soccer coach when I was a kid. You can read some of them here. The voices of those who love Amos, the people he has taken care of and nurtured through kindness, their voices rise up from the deep and bring him home. He and my mom created the incredible home that nurtured all of us and in turn, our children, too. That does not mean that in private you cannot exorcise your demons. In writing this, many places have opened within me, revealing long hidden spaces where both anger and joy lived. My name is Anne, and I’m Patrick’s daughter. He learned that idea first from his own mother – it came from her belief that you should never intentionally try to hurt another person. When my children would visit him, he would show them the fig tree and how it was flourishing — “That’s Queenie’s doing” he’d tell them. You are so lucky and so very blessed. It says so little, but my condolences. He did not believe economics, the field I chose to study, was anything like a science. WOW just what I was searching for. Even though I was young, and my memory is terrible, I remember that day. Dad and I were driving somewhere and my Dad – who was deeply pro-choice – was arguing an anti-feminist, anti-choice line of reasoning, and I finally got so angry that I said, “You don’t even believe your own argument right now!” And he replied, “Yeah, but I just really love to debate with you.” And after I finished banging my head on the dashboard of the car, I realized even then what an incredible compliment that was. I am the most derivative human being ever, none of my ideas my own.” Dad tried to argue that point with me–perhaps not surprisingly–but it really is true. He taught me to take an interest in all kinds of people, the community in Valleyview that recognized us as the farm family of the year, the touring musicians at the Bald Eagle Inn, the people from all sorts of backgrounds who remember dad as a warm and generous person. ( Log Out / Thank you for making me want to make the world a better place and for, along with Mom, showing me a path to do so.