My friend Tom died today. It wasn't a great shock when my mom called, but it made me sad in a deep way that I could not expect. It seemed sudden, even though I knew it was coming.
He had bad juju in the abdomen cancer and had fought it for a long time.
I didn't see him after he got sick, except in pictures. He lived in Louisiana and I don't live nearby. I couldn't figure out how to go see him without it seeming maudlin. Now I wish I had anyway. I was supposed to be the first guest in their Louisiana house, but a missed plane meant that my last encounter with Tom was our mutual disappointment on the phone.
Tom and Patti were my church's youth group leaders when I was a teenager. But I like to think my friendship with them was and is more than that.
I grabbed everything they had to offer. Tom's weird musical tastes, his great talent on the trombone. He resistance to "belonging" to groups.
In the middle of Tom's sickness, the Snyder's life went on, I know. Anna and Jane kept going. Patti, bless her, is a minister at a church in Baton Rouge and knocked herself out helping Katrina victims.
They were in Houston getting Tom treatment and Patti got him home before he died. I'm glad for that. Home is a better place to be than Houston or a hospital. Or a hospital in Houston.
He was as gentle a man as I've ever known. He hugged better then anyone on the planet. Warm, loving hugs that made me feel safe and loved. I appreciate his warmth, his iconoclasm, his thoughtfulness. I know he was a great husband and father. He certainly was an amazing friend.
I'm not sure how you assess the full measure of a life, but if it has anything to do with the how he affected the people left behind, Tom's life was full. I will miss him terribly.
"We'll meet again on some bright highway
Songs to sing and tales to tell...
Because I expect to touch his hand, boys
Put a word in for you if I can."
Steve Earle "Pilgrim"
4 comments:
I met Tom only once, in Memphis, when we went with he and Patty to have ribs at that crazy cellar joint with the big plates of pickles. He was a lovely and generous soul, and I miss the idea of his being in the world.
Tom sounds like a lovely man. He sounds like the embodiment of his faith in all the truest and best ways. I'd like to have met him (and maybe had one of those wonderful hugs). My thoughts are with you, S.
Boo! I've had my share of cancer and death from cancer over the last 12 months. Maybe more than my share, actually. I know what you're feeling, and it totally sucks to be not around when it happens to someone who's been sick. I'm sorry, Sporky.
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Death hits me hard. No matter how I try to distance myself or immerse myself in it as research, it's still personal and horrible. I wish I knew what to say, but I never do. But I am here for you if you need me.
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