How do you start to write about a loss as great as the death of Patrick? I cannot remember a time when I didn't know him. When I was a child he was one of the Nugent boys who displayed endless patience and tolerance as they entertained us younger children.
Patrick never lost this touch with children. His intuitive sense of fun and playfulness put every child at ease in his Dundrum surgery. "I can hear elephants in your tummy - I can see lions and tigers in your ears" - and invariably you would leave his surgery with your child clutching a specially chosen gift (some harmless medical freebie-gadget).
The term "larger-than-life" may be a cliche, but it describes Patrick. His brother Peter spoke so movingly at his funeral of the fact that Patrick was a liberator, that he got people out of jail, their own particular jail or prison, whether it be an addiction to alcohol or some other affliction or burden. He was so many people's anchor, helpline and rock of strength.
Patrick was passionate about his family and about his work. How he lived for and through his family - his dear wife Sibylle, whom he constantly described as "the wind beneath my wings", and his children, now grown up: Ingse, Dillon and Christopher. He was inordinately proud of all their accomplishments and achievements.
Both through his role as a GP and through the huge involvement and commitment he had to his work with alcoholics, Patrick lived out a vocation of total personal service and giving. In doing so, he employed rare gifts, including a directness and honesty, huge optimism and belief in the people he was helping and, above all, unending kindness and humanity.
Patrick was truly "a man for all seasons". He was a lively and entertaining companion but he also had a strongly reflective side evidenced by a great interest in poetry. As a student, his own poems had been published a number of times. Patrick had also reflected on the choices he had made in his life and was very comfortable with them. His own conclusion was that he had found great fulfilment in taking "the road less travelled".
Another of Patrick's passions was fly-fishing in the West of Ireland. Here, all too infrequently, he found total peace and solitude to recharge his batteries and was capable of losing complete track of time fishing for hours on end fuelled only by an endless supply of Mars bars. We are all still trying to make some sense of Patrick's untimely death and he is missed terribly by his family, his friends and all those he helped. Patrick faced his illness with amazing bravery and strength and during this time his concerns were all to do with others.
He died on October 6th last at the age of 58. The shock and pain of his parting are still so fresh. A few days later my own four-year-old, made the following heartfelt, unprompted prayer: "God, please look after Dr Patrick very well because we loved him so much".