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Patricia Nichol Obituary
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Memories and Condolences
for Patricia Nichol
Therese Llanes
June 9, 2024
Missing you, dear friend.
Debbie
September 4, 2021
I remember this lovely lady.We attended a poetry class together. we will miss you .
Therese Llanes
June 9, 2021
Missing you still. Jan and I are traveling in Yellowstone and you are with us.
Therese Llanes
April 30, 2019
Remembering you today on your birthday, dear Pat. I miss you and think of you often. Love, Therese
The Writer's Circle
Jennifer Pickering
June 17, 2018
My friend Pat L. Nichol passed away in May 2018. Despite her illness and an earlier physical disability which left it difficult to walk. She, was courageous, determined and independent and found room for writing and living a joyous life until she transitioned over. As I read and proof my own writing I hear her voice making suggestions to strengthen my work and I still see her pen marking up the copy with surgical precision. Her copy editing was amazing and she gave of her time generously.
Pat was a prolific writer whether it be poems, stories, novels or memoir the were always very well crafted. Her stories never left me not wanting to turn the page. She was also, a fine poet. Once a month every 1st Thursday we'd meet for several years to exchange that most precious procession-our words strung together to take others on a journey, to help us understand the world, to create music with words and to provide insight to our readers through many genres. I miss you Pat, but your words live on and I hold your memory dear.
Pat's Story In a family of secret keepers, words were to become very, very important to me. As far back as I can remember (and I don't remember much of my early childhood), I loved books. In that small town plains environment of Brush, Colorado, where I grew up, I can remember the library in great detail: I entered through the north doors, the librarian's desk was in the center of the room on the right side, and the children's section was beyond that desk. This memory is etched in my mind in detail. Maybe accurately or maybe not. Who knows?
I just looked the Brush library up on the internet. It looks just the way I remember it, although I'm not sure what direction it faces, and I'm not sure about there being steps on the north side. Oh, well, it was one of my first chances to have access to something that was in short supply in our household: words. Meaningful words that told a story---words that were beautiful that were magic carpets allowing me to escape.
I also remember standing outside my first grade classroom, thinking, I'm going to learn to read. I was thrilled to the core, and I never once found Dick and Jane and Spot boring
This love of words and stories, this passion, stood me in good stead for the rest of my life as I continued to read voraciously, to explore being a writer, and to create the fantasy world which sheltered my sanity. I am a writer because I am a writer. I cannot perceive of myself any other way. Rilke asked the young poet if he must write, and I would have answered yes, I must write. I write to find the truth, to explore the truth, to tell stories, to capture beauty as it flies about on butterfly wings.
Pat Nichol has published poetry in several publications, including Brevities, DADs Desk, and Tiger's Eye. Several of her poems were included in PTSD Nation, a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Exhibit held in Sacramento in 2014 and traveling the United States. Currently she is preparing a book of poems for publication, finishing the query letter and summary for a novel she plans to have published, and beginning a memoir.
Pat passed away in May of 2018.
My friend Pat L. Nichol passed away in May 2018. Despite her illness and an earlier physical disability which left it difficult to walk. She, was courageous, determined and independent and found room for writing and living a joyous life until she transitioned over. As I read and proof my own writing I hear her voice making suggestions to strengthen my work and I still see her pen marking up the copy with surgical precision. Her copy editing was amazing and she gave of her time generously.
Pat was a prolific writer whether it be poems, stories, novels or memoir the were always very well crafted. Her stories never left me not wanting to turn the page. She was also, a fine poet. Once a month every 1st Thursday we'd meet for several years to exchange that most precious procession-our words strung together to take others on a journey, to help us understand the world, to create music with words and to provide insight to our readers through many genres. I miss you Pat, but your words live on and I hold your memory dear.
Pat's Story In a family of secret keepers, words were to become very, very important to me. As far back as I can remember (and I don't remember much of my early childhood), I loved books. In that small town plains environment of Brush, Colorado, where I grew up, I can remember the library in great detail: I entered through the north doors, the librarian's desk was in the center of the room on the right side, and the children's section was beyond that desk. This memory is etched in my mind in detail. Maybe accurately or maybe not. Who knows?
I just looked the Brush library up on the internet. It looks just the way I remember it, although I'm not sure what direction it faces, and I'm not sure about there being steps on the north side. Oh, well, it was one of my first chances to have access to something that was in short supply in our household: words. Meaningful words that told a story---words that were beautiful that were magic carpets allowing me to escape.
I also remember standing outside my first grade classroom, thinking, I'm going to learn to read. I was thrilled to the core, and I never once found Dick and Jane and Spot boring
This love of words and stories, this passion, stood me in good stead for the rest of my life as I continued to read voraciously, to explore being a writer, and to create the fantasy world which sheltered my sanity. I am a writer because I am a writer. I cannot perceive of myself any other way. Rilke asked the young poet if he must write, and I would have answered yes, I must write. I write to find the truth, to explore the truth, to tell stories, to capture beauty as it flies about on butterfly wings.
Pat Nichol has published poetry in several publications, including Brevities, DADs Desk, and Tiger's Eye. Several of her poems were included in PTSD Nation, a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Exhibit held in Sacramento in 2014 and traveling the United States. Currently she is preparing a book of poems for publication, finishing the query letter and summary for a novel she plans to have published, and beginning a memoir.
Pat passed away in May of 2018.
Pat was a prolific writer whether it be poems, stories, novels or memoir the were always very well crafted. Her stories never left me not wanting to turn the page. She was also, a fine poet. Once a month every 1st Thursday we'd meet for several years to exchange that most precious procession-our words strung together to take others on a journey, to help us understand the world, to create music with words and to provide insight to our readers through many genres. I miss you Pat, but your words live on and I hold your memory dear.
Jennifer O'Neill Pickering
June 16, 2018
Pat's memory is a blessing. Janet
June 16, 2018
We are saddened to learn of the passing of Pat, but grateful for her service to our nation with the Peace Corps in the Philippines.
Our Condolences,
The National Peace Corps Association
June 16, 2018
My sincere condolences to the family and friends. May our heavenly father give you his peace as you remember your loved one.
June 16, 2018
A beautiful tribute to a beautiful person. Truly a life well lived. Sandra & Roger
June 15, 2018
We are sorry for your loss. Susie & Dan
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