Patrick Dennis Sherwin

March 20, 1969 – December 11, 2003 

Losing someone so young, intelligent, and special as Patrick leaves us not knowing how to feel.  One moment our insides are tied in knots, the next we are angry, and the next we want our friend back, and then yet again we feel privileged to have been a part of Patrick’s life. 

Howard and I have both studied computers and I have worked in the field for about 15 years.  Yet Patrick could answer any question we had about computers because he had the drive to learn every detail possible. He was always challenging us to know more.  How do we replace a friend like this? 

Patrick projected a hard outer shell to the outside world, and sometimes seemed to have a scowl on his face, or perhaps appear to look angry to people he didn’t know, or he didn’t let in. Under that outward appearance, there was a center of generosity, intellect and kindness. How do we replace a friend like this? 

Patrick wasn’t materialistic.  He lived modestly.  He didn’t have a car or even cable television.  He didn’t have a microwave oven until this summer.  Patrick understood what was important in life, and that money doesn’t buy it.  Yet he was generous and shared what he did have. Whether it was computer parts or when the three of us had tickets for the Warped tour at the amphitheater, Patrick made CDs for us of the bands playing at the show so we could be informed, and choose the best bands to see that day.  He often shared music, magazines, books, and computer games.  I never knew him to be less than honest about anything.  He loaned a hand with home improvements, even if it was 105 degrees in the shade, repaired our bikes, and helped install speakers in Howard’s car.  How do we replace a friend like this?

Although we’ve known Patrick for many years, we only became close friends after he left Pitney Bowes.  Patrick was going to college full-time, enjoying it, and excelling.  Patrick was the one who destroyed the grading curb for everyone else.  He scored 108 on a recent Statistics test.  He loved telling us about his wacky professors who he assigned new names.  Professor Baggy Pants, an aging surfer with pants that fell down every 30 seconds taught philosophy.  However, most of Patrick’s stories involved Professor Crazy Bitch.  OhMyGod!  Can’t you just picture his “wide open eyes” when saying that name?  She was a public speaking professor with a fanatical love of theater and the speech topics she assigned were always about theater.  Patrick said that rather than teaching public speaking, she talked at length about her theater experiences, her singing, and other wild tangents.  With the topics she assigned, he told us, he might as well stand at the front of the room and put on a song and dance rather than a speech.  Patrick had a wicked sense of humor.  How do we replace a friend like this? 

Although Patrick had adversity in his life let us not forget that he loved life.  He owed and wore baseball caps in an assortment of colors that read, “Life is Good.”  Our friend Patrick was intelligent, kind, giving and a source of strength to us. His light burned bright, fast and went out too soon for us all. The world will be a little more dim without him in it, and we will miss him.  

December 19, 2003 by Howard and George