[Verse 1]
She's carried what most people never have to name,
Two empty chairs at the table, nothing looks the same,
The handwriting on the card she keeps beside the bed,
The voice she reaches for at dawn already said
everything it needed to — and now the silence fills
the space where all that ordinary tenderness was still.

[PreChorus]
But something underneath the grief holds like bedrock does,
A knowing deeper than the hurt — it always was.

[Chorus]
Pat, you were built from a love that goes bone-deep,
The kind that stays awake long after others sleep,
Pat, even gutted open, you are whole,
The river doesn't stop because it's cold.

[Verse 2]
She thinks in images before she thinks in words,
Reaches truth the way a dreamer hears what no one heard,
Her mind was always wider than the road ahead,
Following the meaning underneath the thing that's said,
She gave her whole heart freely, not in parts or halves,
All or nothing — that's the only math she knows to have.

[PreChorus]
And grief this size is proof of love that size,
You don't mourn small — that much is no surprise.

[Chorus]
Pat, the weight you carry shows how much you gave,
Every room you loved them in, you still can brave,
Pat, the ones you've lost are woven in your core,
What you were to them, you are — and more.

[Verse 3]
She stood at the top of everything she built with care,
Made herself a name that people trusted, kept it square,
The one who showed up steadily, who did the work,
Who never let the hard days let her purpose shirk,
Now she's learning that surviving is a different kind of call —
Not holding up the walls, but learning she's allowed to fall.

[PreChorus]
A door that's cracked wide open still lets something through,
And something new is pressing, Pat, toward you.

[Chorus]
Pat, the love that shaped you cannot be undone,
Your daughter's laugh, his hands — they live inside your sun,
Pat, you are not the ending, you're the through-line,
Still becoming who you are — and that is fine.

[Bridge]
Let the grief be what it is — don't clean it up too fast,
Even the most loyal heart deserves to hold what passed,
You have always known how to descend and then return,
That is not a breaking — that is how the steady burn.

[Outro]
Pat, you are still here, and here is not a small thing,
Still breathing into mornings, still listening,
The ones you loved made you exactly who you are,
And you carry them — not as a wound — but as a star.