My Dearest Mother,
I have been hoping up to now that it would be possible to see you again, but it does not seem possible. Good-bye, dear Mother. Through you I say good-bye to ‘Wow-wow,’ Mary Brigid, Willie, Miss Byrne, Micheál, Cousin Maggie, and everyone at St Enda’s. I hope and believe that Willie and the St Enda boys will be safe.
I have written two papers about financial affairs and one about my books, which I want you to get. With them are a few poems which I want added to the poems in MS. in the bookcase.
You asked me to write a little poem which would seem to be said by you about me*. I have written it, and a copy is in Arbour Hill Barracks with the other papers. Father Aloysius has taken charge of another copy.
I have just received Holy Communion. I am happy, except for the grief of parting from you.
This is the death I should have asked for if God had given me the choice of all deaths—to die a soldier’s death for Ireland and for freedom. We have done right. People will say hard things of us now, but later on will praise us.
Do not grieve for all of this, but think of it as a sacrifice which God has asked of me and of you.
Good-bye again, dear, dear Mother. May God bless you for your great love for me and for your great faith in me, and may He remember all that you have so bravely suffered. I hope soon to see Papa, and in a little while we shall be all together again.
‘Wow-wow,’ Willie, Mary Brigid, and Mother, good-bye. I have not words to tell you of my love for you and home, and how my heart yearns to you all.
I will call to you in my heart at the last moment.
Your son,
Pat.
* See bottom of page here.