Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Letter to my son, Patrick Lewis

September 10, 1985
Dear Patrick,

I am writing this letter because you are not here. The police have called and are bringing you home. Your father is so angry he's started smoking again and watching Jeopardy. He hasn't turned a single page of Chaucer since we discovered you and the car were missing.

Oh Patrick, how could you do this? And for what? A surfing competition? We do not tell you "no" lightly. We have reasons behind our decisions. As your parents, we judged you too irresponsible to go to a competition in Los Angeles. And we were right. Stealing my car to go on your own demonstrated just the lack of foresight and maturity that we feared.

Where would you have stayed? What would you have eaten? Son, did you even think of these things?


It was irresponsible, Patrick, and reckless. You have harmed not only yourself, but Jason as well. By involving him in your scheme, you have put his entire future at risk. You know how disadvantaged he is. A criminal record would be disastrous for that young man. Why would you hurt your best friend's future in that way?
There are dangers in the world, Patrick. Serious dangers of which you can only imagine. Not just the junkies and the gangs. There are other, darker things to fear.


Jason's father knows. As Draig, he daily fights horrors that your young heart cannot even comprehend. Why would you expose yourself to that? Or Jason? Like it or not, both you boys have knowledge that puts you in danger. What would you have done if something magical attacked without us there to defend you?

I have never been more disappointed in my whole life. We love you so much, Patrick. Why would you hurt us this way? Do you know what could have happened?

I cannot write any more. I am too sad.

Your mother

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