Paul Frearson, my Master from Henry Pooles, passed away last night.
The news came as a huge shock this morning and has saddened me greatly. This whole day has been a haze. I kept thinking how I never got to say goodbye.
So here's a short poem I wrote in the hour or so after I got the news.
I love you Paul and you will live in my heart forever more.
Farewell, My Master
Why did you have to leave us so?
I suppose it was just time to go.
Like all great men, you had your day,
But in our hearts, you'll always stay.
All we have are memories bright,
Stitched with love in golden light.
You live on in the work we do,
In every thread, in every hue.
Farewell, my mentor, wise and true,
A guide, a friend, in all we knew.
Though times were tough, and trials came,
The bond we shared remained the same.
No scissors cut what time has spun,
A thread of life, forever one.
Your stories wove a world so vast,
A glimpse of time that now has passed.
Then came the day your sun would set,
A final stitch, and yet, and yet—
Your lessons live, your skill remains,
Passed through hands like flowing veins.
The minds you shaped, the craft you taught,
The endless wisdom you once brought,
Will carry on, forever free,
A living legacy of artistry.
One day, like you, I'll leave behind
The work I made, the ties that bind.
But could I leave a mark so true,
As deep, as strong, as one like you?
As time goes by I will think of thee,
In every thread, in memory.
And perhaps, beyond this final seam,
We’ll meet again in light and dream.
We all come and we all go.. what matters is the mark we leave behind... Its was great reading your story and the impact Paul had on you.
He did leaver a mark as this Nigerian, lady living in the US. Who just got started on sewing in her 40s has heard of Paul Frearson through you...
He left a mark and you are leaving one Rory. Dont be too sad. Rejoice for a life well lived and know that we do not die but transition to another dimension and I think even there Paul sees and reads and feels your love and appreciation.
This stanza of your poem is fulfilled and fulfilling.
"One day, like you, I'll leave behind
The work I made, the ties that bind.
But could I leave a mark so true,
As deep, as strong, as one like you?"