On the 25th of June, 2022, American and English families and friends of John Patrick Francis O'Connor gathered together at the beautiful 900 year old Anglican church where he was baptized, St. Mary de Haura in Shoreham, West Sussex, England. It was to be a final farewell to a husband, father, grandfather, and friend. For me, it was the coda, the final pas de deux of the composition, a life shared with a beloved husband.
It is not surprising that coda, an Italian word originating from the Latin cauda, meaning the tail of an animal, is a word often used in music, ballet, and literature as a summation of the work. The beautiful memorial service could not be described more aptly than with the aid of the coda metaphor, my last choreographed dance of admiration and remembrance with the love of my life.
When Patrick passed on the 17th of August, 2021, I knew despite my tears and grief that my time with him was not over. Because of Covid and travel restrictions and because my family in Houston could not leave their hospital jobs and schools, I set the date to take Patrick back home to England for the 19th of June, 2022. I spent the ten months following his passing planning a memorial service and two receptions from across the Pond. Patrick's friends and family in England worked diligently with me to bring us all together for this coda. I would like to believe his spirit was with us every step of the dance, that he knew what we were doing, and in the end we witnessed an even greater bond than before as we put aside our grieving to celebrate a life well lived.
With Patrick's love of nature in mind, I carefully selected the music and scripture for the order of service, and a number of peopled offered tributes in honor of him, creating a farewell to remember. When it was over, we walked across the street to the Crown and Anchor pub for reception number one. A swashbuckling buccaneer in a boat sits atop the front of the pub, reminding visitors of the long-standing connection to 18th century smugglers on the River Adur that runs alongside the English Channel.
My first visit to Shoreham, St. Mary's and the Crown and Anchor, was with Patrick in 2005. He was keen to show me where he grew up and was baptized, where his family lived as they faced the devastating effects of World War II along the Channel.
After a bittersweet gathering at the pub with typical English fare and a toast to Patrick, we made our way back to our house in Saltdean to prepare for reception number two.
Patrick's friends from college and from Brighton University where he was a lecturer in the engineering department--Baz Taylor, John Andrews, Ian Hymas and Rory and Diana Mortimore, and also family members, came from various parts of England and Australia to participate in our coda. Patrick's daughter Georgina Rebera and her husband Julian, son Johnny O'Connor, five granddaughters and their husbands--Jocelyn Rebera, Jazmine Goodyear, Jade Young, Gemma Butler, and Hana O'Connor, and five great grandchildren added youthful, hopeful joy to our gathering. On the American side, my daughters Kate Hartman and her husband Rishi Modi and three of their children and Rachel Paredes and her son Christopher supported me throughout our journey to honor Patrick.
We spent hours telling stories about this marvelous man, and as we did, we grew closer to each other. There is something magical about remembering with words and photos, reliving those special times as if they were happening again in real time. Experiencing those moments together often creates a solemn covenant that seals friendship in a way that is binding. I have no doubt that happened for us.
In the end George, Johnny and I traveled to Lancing Beach on the last day to scatter Patrick's ashes on the beach where they played with their father as children. What could have been the final farewell to our beloved husband and father did not feel final to me. Patrick O'Connor still lives in the life we created together almost twenty years ago. I became a new person when I married this man, a person I liked even better than my old self. His garden and his paintings, the daily habits that created a happy life together are constant reminders of the beauty he shared with me. Death has not separated us spiritually. I will always be married to this man, and I will see him again one day.
I'm returning to West Sussex in October of this year. Just being present on the beautiful English coast with his family and friends brings me closer to Patrick's spirit. The coda may be finished, but he lives on in every part of my being, offering me the gift of satisfice in my contentment.
Peace be with you, friends.
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