This update is to let everyone know the plans for celebrating Patrick's life the weekend of October 11-12 in Charlotte, North Carolina. There is a gathering at the Flying Saucer Restaurant in University area on Saturday evening at 6:00 pm until. Sunday, the memorial in honor of Patrick will take place at the Embassy Suites located at 4800 S. Tryon St (near Charlotte Douglas Airport--they will have shuttle service) at 12:00 pm in the banquet room. A special room block and rate have been reserved and is available until Oct. 5 (a week prior). Call the hotel at 704-527-8400 and use PHM as the code for the rate.
Please forward any written sentiments, photos, audio or video you would like to make a part of our tribute to me (Kim AKA The Trustee) at email@example.com.
Thank you so much for your thoughts and contributions. I truly look forward to seeing or hearing from all of you, either next week or in the future.
The grief is immense. I broke. I am embarrassed at the kindnesses and ashamed where I know I failed my dear friend.
But, right on time, as everything in this has been, our hospice angels -- My Angel Network since the loss of my beloved and relentless Mom over 7 years ago to ... no big surprise ... breast cancer -- came in again (different state and agencies are not affiliated to my knowledge) and saved us on this rollercoaster ride that started, for me, on July 25th, one month ago.
It hurts a lot to remember that call, and why I do, and can look up the time on my cell phone when I need to. For now, I'm just shilling for the children because I'm ashamed of momentum loss since my last post.
I never asked for money before now. Neither did Patrick. Now, both of us are asking because of what you've shown us he did during his entire life --teaching, sports, children, love, encouragement, community building in literature as well as in-game, as well as in real life, aka, meat space.
Please. I told his daughters days ago my goal for that day was another $5k by midnight. I have been writing posts in here for days and days and days and days...
... but not hitting send because I want everything "perfect." F*** perfect, I have HUGE dreams, if approved by the Trustee of the Patrick G. Holyfield Children's Trust.
But what would you expect from a Muse? Yup. And nothing less.
~~Viv(id Muse) Schubert, after restorative veal, aka snorlax, aka slug behavior, now off to hunt for chocolate.
I am tired now as my adrenaline and strength are leaving me and recovery day approaches. Don't fear, I swung from the Chandelier (Sia reference. Look up the lyrics. It's my POV when with loved ones.
I must sleep as i promised I would but must get this message out to more people than i have strength to text and those that have been my hands when I feel are finally tending to themselves (and each other, we can't help it by now, at least, not so far.
As the sun rises over the beloved golf course that PG's bedroom and deck overlook that I published somewhere (Here? Flickr? I will ensure it gets here, and /or a better one.) I can't bear to pen Facebook until after I sleep because of THE FEELZ. As a dear friend likes to say.
Because EXHAUSTED and CHANGED, am compelled to share this message with all of you so far and in the future because my hands are failing me and I still must share the sentiment. Forgive the poor writing, I am rushing this before sleep because I failed my personal goal of a total of $20k to blow Our Flowers mind again for when I gave their too honest eyes (each just like their Dad, until just before the end. I think. "casino time" as we call it means I have to compile all my communications (and those by the few TRUSTED "Sestras") to create a timberline of this blur of a 50-ish days.
When next I (hopefully) site next, I will have woken up and recovered as quickly as humanly possible in order to write more update in the hopes of finding a tiny smile tomorrow. Thank you for my outburst of emotion. You have been so excruciatingly vulnerable, an infinite number of you that I honor that by bearing my wounds for you. For *my kids' * benefit. I need our three sons to know they can still rely on me.
I am finally going to sleep and happily I don't know for how long, just that I have promised it will be Long Enough before I seek out my new daughter-figures and assess them since Chooch will be asleep and Kim is already starting (I pray) her healing by having gotten up before 5:30am to begin doing her routine to start healing.
Our new family, here at home with now Kim and Chooch and I (The remaining of our Pigtail Brigade, now down, one impossibly but peacefully gone.
Everyone, even their pets (more about them later) , are all at peace and each said they accepted that it was time for PG to stop fighting so exhaustively and test for just a tiny second. Type names and words and love I continued to share all after I believe he was no longer able to hear us.
I can't wait to share with the world the part you played in this as I have already frantically been outlyning the first cathartic outlets fire folks in a way that benefits the kids and estate.
Just as FUCKING FAST as my weak body will let me.
Because PG showed me how far your heart and soul and blood and *spirit* can carry you after your body fails you, from vigor with some fatigue to deceased in a month (not a precise timberline. My mind is cracking after my body is finally able to rest.).
I will never be able to express how long and excruciating a month can be when you heal 23 years, one month and 18-ish ddays of self-abuse because of feeling I had failed my mother since her first occurrence of breast cancer.
I may be airline predicting it but I feel light where I only felt dark size then. Tangential, I know. Sorry.
So much love to you, as part of an lesion or army or whatever i can think of later, that got to win. WE FUCKED CANCER.
PG resolved everything I knew and was possible allowed to have that closure.
After Pamela, Chooch and I got each other to nap ONLY by keeping each other in line-of-sight because of the amazing love, laughter, kids playing, sharing and other things too profound to miss.
We made it upstairs and I had to wash yesterday off of me.
As I stepped out of the shower, I saw Chooch went back downstairs, where PG and everyone else is.
I mumbled his name angrily for cheating, and Pamela said, while staring intently at her tablet, "I know he said why he was leaving, but I didn't catch it because I am watching a volcano."
She LITERALLY was.
Now she and Chooch sleep. More after nap and PG time.
So, I am the author of the first update and the last one, but surprising no one, I didn't know how to fix entries by Chooch and have not taken time to figure it out.
I just saw all three daughters and his younger two each hugged me for the first time, which I am sharing as thanks to you.
You are making a difference in the lives of his Mom, Dad, Brother, Sister-in-Law, and his daughters. In addition, his partner and special lady friend, Kim, her sisters, her niece and nephew all have a brand new appreciation.
PG especially enjoyed when, after a message regarding PG encouraging MMORPG game play, writing, photography and our in the result later is that
In addition, you have given smiles and laughter at a time when we need them, to fulfill our promise to him. (Spoilers, sweeties.)
Thanks to amazing loving hands that encircle PG, we (Chooch, Pamela and I) are finally off sleep and showering, since we know Kim and other beloved family are encircling him, including his First (born) Flower.
Updates to come.
Please keep sharing. (I slacked off and we have lost momentum.)
For those that cannot donate, please remember, "You can't stop the signal." Share it, re-tweet it, G+ it, hell,
As we've said, we're going through and playing and reading all your messages to PG. your words are what is carrying Patrick through these final hours. We're tag teaming this, with Viv queuing up the media on her computer while I read from mine.
You are all trying so hard to say goodbye in a way that celebrates your friendship with Patrick, and we've been particularly touched by a random recurrence (that you must hear in your head in River Song's voice) spoilers! Viv has been plugging her ears and I'm too brain full to record any new info, so all you're secrets are safe unless the dog talks. We know what it's like for an author to have stories waiting for publishing (or writing!) You just have to be the cliffhangering bastard to keep us readers on the edges of our seats.
But for PG ... You tied up loose ends and you are letting him close his book with all stories finished.
We humbly appreciate your patience on information leaving.
Our network is full of your love and I have failed PG, by missing all of those posts, since I was trying to update every 6 hours since this went live something like 450,000 hours ago. (The phrase, "Who are you and who is your King, is appropriate here. If PG/Patrick is not your King, you don't yet understand the man.)
We are battle-hardened by your love. To Podcast/Sci-Fi Fantasy realm of Our PG's life, your expressions in the mediums he so loves, are spanning the gap that naturally occurs between strangers, even when they are brought together by someone like Patrick.
Because that's the love he inspired in far more of you than he ever knew before now.
Sidebar: I am writing this with Pamela Gay as a gatekeeper, as PG's Second Flower (middle daughter), is absent-mindedly stoking her father's beloved dog, as he lays at her feet.
And this is while Pamela Gay explains what CosmoQuest is to PG's First and Second (of his Three) Flowers (my personal naming convention to protect their identities at this horrific time), as they trustingly listen and learn amazing things I dare not allow myself to hear or I'll be interrupted for the 15th time. (EDIT: 24th. We have many hours of future conversations planned to allow this to be brief. (HA!)
We are humbled, fueled and loving each other and supporting each other through this, in honor of him, thanks to your words, your pictures, your donations, your songs (whether you play or say the guitar parts), your sharing, your offers for the now grand dreams of a campaign of fund-raising we are planning in line with his wishes.
We remain in awe, enlivened, and at peace with what we are comforting Patrick, aka P.G., aka Dad, as a shared movement through this devastating experience.
Dear friend, or beloved friend PG... Patrick... Is in active decline. If you want to see him, come today. We understand realities of life will prevent most of you from being here, but if you send your messages we will read them and share them. We are sorry to have to so publicly share this urgency, but we are trying to reach everyone as quickly as able. If you can please share out this update, we would be very grateful.
His mind is still with us. He may sleep most of the the time if you visit. We have space and your visit would be a grace, however we may need to ask you to wait a bit for him to be ready to see you in a moment of strength.
Our dear friend PG Holyfield is at the bitter end of a surprisingly brief battle with cancer.
We are raising funds to help make him as comfortable as possible in his last weeks, as well as offset medical costs, and care for his daughters.
Any funds you can spare are appreciated and will help immensely. PG touched so many people through his novel Murder at Avedon Hill, numerous short stories, his podcasts, his convention panels, or deep conversations. Please share this with anyone you can think of that his light has touched.
This page will shortly be updated with details of his condition. A summary is up on his site SpecFic Media.
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