R. I. P. My Brother, Michael 1951-2022

In the acknowledgments to my new thriller, Fool Her Once, I write this about my brother, Michael: He was “the first reader of my first draft and went through my manuscript with an editor’s insight and with an astounding eye for detail.” It’s an acknowledgment he probably didn’t get to see.

The hardcover copy of the book arrived at his home on Thursday April 14th. Just four days later, he passed away in a hospital in Prague, in the Czech Republic at the age of 70.

A Shock

It’s mostly assumed that, catastrophes, tragedies and pandemics aside, death should follow a natural order. So, it was a shock that it came for my little brother before coming for me and/or my 85-year old, COPD-stricken husband, Joe. It came so swiftly, we didn’t have time to say good-bye.

Throughout most of our lives, my brother and I had a rocky relationship. We were children of divorce at the ages of eight and ten, and we picked our sides early in the very ugly, bitter — sometimes public — battle between our parents. So, we were not especially close growing up. But, blood is thicker than water and we came to rely on one other at those times when push came to shove.

Flying High

Michael was there for me when I moved from London to New York  in 1978. He was already established and successful as an executive for SWIFT, the world-wide bank messaging system and a start-up company at the time. He worked on the 14th floor of the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

In turn, I was there for him when he got ticketed and jailed for a night on a DUI charge while driving his bright red BMW convertible in Fort Lauderdale where he had a condo on the Intracoastal Waterway.

Michael & Daniel

Michael lived a lavish lifestyle back then, jetting around the world. But he never forgot his family or friends, always returning from these trips with an armful of gifts –especially after his only nephew, Daniel was born.

Settling Down

In 1995, he moved to Prague where he eventually settled down  with his girlfriend Eva, stepson Krystof — and his beagles Felix and Bongo. 

In the meantime, our relationship was characterized by the usual sibling ups and downs — although at times it could, and did, turn not only contentious, but protractedly vicious. 

Friendship Crept Up On Us

In recent years, however, after Michael fell on hard times because of a failed business venture, we grew steadily closer. I reviewed his legal submissions to Czech lawyers and Czech courts when he stubbornly and doggedly pursued the private venture capital firm which double-crossed him. We emailed and Skyped frequently. We exchanged book and Netflix recommendations.

He became a valued sounding board as Fool Her Once went through edits and revisions and through the the publication process. He provided input on everything from the choices for covers to advice on agent problems. For the last six years he was also a much-appreciated second pair of eyes for the weekly blogs I’ve posted here.

Every Sunday evening, I’d email him a draft of the blog. Every Monday morning (given the 5-6 hour time difference) he responded from Prague. Many times, it was with “that’s fine,” or “that’s really interesting.” But frequently, he added comments and suggestions in his wry, dry style, or caught typos. Neither of us, however, claimed to know much about commas!

One of the last blogs he reviewed was from the week that Fool Her Once was published, commenting on the photo of Joe and me at the celebratory lunch: “Nice hat. Very Palm Beach-ish,” he observed.

Then, came his email with the subject line: Sorry to Rain on your Parade. What he’d self-diagnosed and self-medicated as an ulcer for several months turned out to be more complicated than that. 

Death Sentence

On April 1, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer which had already metastasized to the liver, lungs and lymph nodes. The tumors were inoperable. He was given 3-6 months; perhaps 6-12 months with palliative chemotherapy. Except for minor surgery on a splenic artery aneurysm which doctors also found and warned could rupture suddenly if not treated, he chose to forego any other treatment.

Last Trip

Instead, on April 6th, he left Prague, taking Krystof on a trip to Krakow, Poland (the birthplace of our parents.) He also visited Auschwitz.

In an email to me, he wrote: “That’s something that I’ve wanted to do for a very long time, so not connected to current developments, but it’ll put things/life in perspective. I think it would also be a positive experience for K to understand how, comparatively, fortunate today’s generations are.”

He returned from the trip on Sunday April 10th and collapsed the following Saturday. He was rushed to the hospital where he passed away less than 72 hours later on Monday April 18th, 2022.

He was cremated on Friday April 22, and his ashes will be scattered, according to his wishes, in the Vlatava River that runs through Prague.

Michael was kind and smart and generous. He had a big, loving heart, and he leaves behind a grieving family: his only nephew Daniel, his stepson Krystof, brother-in-law Joe and me, his older sister.

I will miss him more than he could have ever imagined.

R.I.P  Michael John Patyna 1951-2022.