John Brueggemann (nephew)

I have so many wonderful memories of Uncle Pat. At the center of them is his voice. Though he was talented in many forms of communication, I’m thinking especially of the speech that came from his vocal tract. In my earliest memories, it was deep, calm, firm, gentle, and southern.

I recall how he spoke to my grandmother (“Mama, if John says he’s full, he doesn’t have to take more.”). By that time, he did more caretaking of her than vice versa, but there was still something boyish in how he spoke to his mother, even with his baritone timbre.

I also remember how he spoke to Aunt Mary Ann. He communicated so much tenderness, respect and collaboration in every sentence, always calling her “sweets” (as his granddaughter Rachael recently recollected).

When we gathered in Montreat, it was often Uncle Pat who blessed our meals. Such moments were always a treat because our family was together in a happy place. His prayers were special. He frequently started in Hebrew: “Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam….” It was so clarifying amidst the chaos, commotion, and fun we all had together to give thanks to God for all our blessings, Uncle Pat’s voice among them.

I also remember how Uncle Pat spoke to his sisters. The three siblings of course shared many things throughout life that no one else will ever fully understand. I feel like I could hear a whiff of such unspoken affinity and trust each time he addressed them. The way Uncle Pat said my mother’s name reminded me of how my grandmother pronounced it, which always felt oddly comforting and foreign to my Midwestern ears: ‘May-reh’. 

My uncle spoke earnestly to me before most other adults, as if I mattered and he took me seriously as a person. Such reassurance was a blessing in my youth, which I recognized and received gratefully even then. I think I’ve heard that same quality in his speech as he talked to his grandchildren in recent years.  

Uncle Pat had a knowing twinkle in his eye. He was routinely alert, attentive and patient, ready to be serious or share a joke. I think the photo linked to his obituary is a perfect example of that look. But I can recall it in his voice, too. After I developed a robust smart-alecky streak in my 20’s, Uncle Pat was more than happy to meet me on my own turf and give me the business. He wielded a feisty sense of humor – mixed with a reliable dose of gentleness to make sure I knew he was kidding. I can hear his laugh.

In my memory, there is a definitive voice I associate with Uncle Pat, which I heard for decades. It bespeaks wisdom, strength, dignity, humor, and kindness. It is a voice that uplifts me and inspires me. I also remember a different voice in more recent years, more slow, gentle, and quiet, which also evokes memories of my grandmother and also makes me smile. When I hear Uncle Pat’s voice in my head, I think of all the people mentioned above and so many more. I think of the people who ‘loved him into being’ (to borrow Fred Rogers’ words) and all those who Uncle Pat helped love into being. I am so grateful to have been one of them.

I will miss the sound of his voice in my ears but will cherish the memories of it in my heart.

John Brueggemann