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patrickjegan

Respect your ancestors, for you are the result of a thousand loves….

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  • March 5, 2015

    Postcard From Condado Beach

    There are times in life when a person has a particular need.  Nothing else is enough.  Only that one singular need.  If I were lost, ten miles from Badwater, in the center of Death Valley, that need would be water. For me, in the bleak months of Winter ’15, that need is simply warmth. Warmth.…

  • March 3, 2015

    Between Patience and Fortitude

    Despite what my weather app informed me about this afternoon–that the temperature was heading toward the low 40’s, I’m still having the feeling that my wool jacket (more of a pea coat) is merely for show.  The cold wind slices through me like a Triscut dips through Roasted Red Pepper and Garlic Hummus. I’m chilled…

  • March 1, 2015

    Going Down The River On A Winter Day

    Aboard the Amtrak, Train #238.  Bound for Penn Station, NYC I can’t sleep in this cramped seat.  It’s 4A, the window with a view of the Hudson River.  But there is no view.  It’s white enough for sunglasses.  I see West Point across the water, barely.  I snap a photo with my iPad mini.  It…

  • February 25, 2015

    Dear Grandpa

    Dear Grandpa, I thought I’d write to you today.  It’s been such a long time since we had a chance to sit and talk about things.  I have so many memories of you, I don’t know where to begin.  It was so long ago. Remember when I was a little boy?  You lived with Grandma…

  • February 21, 2015

    The Postman Always Winks Twice

    Sometime in the late 1990’s, my wife and I drove to Owego, NY to visit my aging father.  My mum had passed away in 1992, so my dad was living quietly and alone as a widower in our big rambling family home on Front Street. Room by room and closet by closet, any objects or…

  • February 14, 2015

    Forever and a Day

      Absolutely nothing lasts forever. Nothing lasts forever. There may be some things that last forever. One thing lasts forever. You’re waiting for me in the cafe.  The place beside the old church and next to the cemetery.  The only place in the city where I can sit next to the fire and feel warm…on…

  • February 11, 2015

    The Pink Flamingos of the Pacific Northwest

    I asked my daughter, Erin, about her opinion of pink flamingos. “They have their place,” she answered, without taking more than five seconds to think it over. That place was in a front yard, several blocks from her home in Orting, WA. My wife and I were walking back from a brief shopping trip to…

  • January 28, 2015

    The Fabulous Life of a Published Author

    Many writers dream of seeing their published works on the shelf of a bookstore.  Think of the heady feeling of walking into a Barnes & Nobel and seeing your name and book among the thousands of bestsellers.  That’s never been my goal in life.  Selling books means you make money and making money means you move…

  • January 25, 2015

    A Winter Tragedy in the Unforgiving North Country

    This is a heartbreaking story of a misjudgment made 87 years ago today.  The heart of the sadness is that this is a true event. In the summer of 2014, I was wandering through St. Patrick’s Cemetery in Chateaugay, New York.  I was searching for certain headstones to photograph for ancestor-seekers that lived too far…

  • January 21, 2015

    The Impossibly Long Life of a Snowflake

    It’s a simple act of nature.  A billion snowflakes drifting slowly earthward…sometimes rising, sometimes blown sideways…but always downward.  If they each made a sound like a bird, someone stepping out onto a frozen porch in the North Country of the Adirondacks would be deafened.  But each flake makes a sound only it can hear. It…

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