Patrick MacMinn - In loving memory

My dad was an Anglican priest when I was growing up. He only got his calling when he was in his late thirties, which meant that we moved around quite a bit when I was in primary school, and I often had to change schools.

We moved to Mitchell's Plain when I was 10 (Standard 4, 1989). I met Patrick at my new school. I always had trouble making friends when I changed schools. One month after starting at Parkhurst Primary, a week before my eleventh birthday, Patrick and I bunked a tennis lesson together. That tennis lesson was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

We lost contact in high school (Patrick had made some new friends), but in our matric year Patrick tracked me down. We met at Westgate Mall, and it was as if we had just seen each other the day before. Both of us were still in the closet, but we were not in the closet to each other. We didn't even come out to each other, we were just ourselves naturally. We spent the next few years together - we saw each other everyday, and when we weren't with each other, we were on the phone together.

When I went into my first serious relationship, he was the one who told me straight away that the guy was bad for me. He was right, even though it took me twelve years to realise that he was. When I was getting to know my husband, Patrick was the person I called and visited to discuss the difficult decisions I had to make. My marriage to Shaun gave Patrick so much joy. 

Patrick knew all my secrets - he was the only person I trusted for years and years with my most painful and embarrassing secrets. Through the years we often lost touch, but not for long. We couldn't stay away from each other for long.

Patrick became more and more reclusive from about his 30th year. This led to fear of the unknown - the unknown was anything outside of his house. It should have put a strain on our relationship, but we had too much love for each other to allow anything to put a strain on it. I visited him at home, and we had WhatsApp conversations that would go on for hours.

Despite his fear, Patrick was a fiercely loyal and loving friend. There was nothing I could tell him that would lead to judgement of any sort. He was always in my corner, and loved me with his entire being. I once ended up in the emergency room with heart failure. Patrick had a panic attack when he found out about this. 

In the last year we lost touch again. My stubbornness made me wait for him to make contact because I was the one who made contact more often, and it was his turn...

Patrick made contact today. 

No. 

Omar, his life partner, made contact today. My best friend died an hour ago. I allowed my stubbornness to take away a year I could have spent with him. I'm heartbroken. I don't even know what happened and how he died. I am so sorry Patrick. 

In loving memory of my friend

(Kiaan) Patric MacMinn

27th October 1977 - 7th July 2020

Know that you are loved!

I am so sorry that I only did this now. You so much wanted me to dedicate ONE BLOG POST to you. I am devastated that I did it one hour too late. I will always love you Patrick.