In Honor of Uncle Tom
We lost another awesome human a few weeks ago when my Uncle Tom passed. I’m just getting home from the funeral, so I wanted to share some thoughts on his life and reactions to the weekend.
I’ll start with the latter, as that’s what’s most fresh in my head and heart. My orientation and reactions towards funerals has shifted dramatically, to the point where I have an easier time celebrating folks’ lives than I used to (particularly when they’ve lived well and have much to celebrate, as Tom did). There’s so much joy in celebrating a life well lived, joy that exists alongside the pain, sadness, and grief we feel when we lose someone. There was a lot of love this weekend, and a lot of joy in sharing stories, both formally through the wake and informally through the after-hours conversations at the bar.
Again, the joy doesn’t take away the pain, which hit hard when Tom passed. His death really rattled me (as it did a lot of folks), particularly because his life journey paralleled mine via his status as a widower who found a second act. Tom’s wife passed about 15 years ago (another tragic and unfair circumstance), but he was able to move forward with his life and find another wonderful relationship. One of the speakers at the wake talked about how, after his wife passed, the omnipresent spark/sparkle in Tom’s eye dimmed for a few years, but when he found his next relationship, the sparkle returned. That comment resonated, particularly because of the recent, positive developments in my life courtesy of my new partner K, and the joy, happiness, and spark that she adds to life. I never got a chance to talk with Tom about this, and he never got a chance to meet K, but I’d like to think that he’d be really happy about me my finding my second act, and in knowing that his example helped inspire me to do so.
Having role models like Tom was so important to me in the aftermath of Chelsea’s passing; simply knowing that there were people like Tom who had done hard things gave me the confidence that I could do the same. He and my stepfather both gave me incredible examples of how to navigate really difficult life circumstances with grace and gratitude. Tom and my stepfather Dan, who passed in 2018 from a 10+ year battle with a terminal illness, were two of the most positive people I’ve known; despite dealing with tragic circumstances, they both always managed to find joy and express gratitude on a daily basis. Those role models are so important, and I can’t overstate how powerful their examples can be (pro tip-when you’re battling adversity, try and find someone who’s walked the same path, reach out to them, and listen to their stories).
I’m certainly not alone in having an important life story about Tom being inspirational; we heard a lot of those stories this weekend, testament to the breadth of his impact on his community. But in spite of Tom’s impact and larger-than-life, Bill Brasky-esque legend, he retained a sense of humility and intellectual curiosity that made him incredibly approachable. One of the speakers talked about how Tom was an ordinary man who lived an extraordinary life, and that Tom never touted his accomplishments or put himself above others.
One of his friends had a powerful story about how the only time Tom ever got mad at him was when that friend suggested that he couldn’t have responded to his wife’s passing with the strength that Tom had; Tom said, ‘of course you would,’ and talked about his belief that we all have the capacity to overcome adversity when called upon to do so. Again, an ordinary man who lived an extraordinary life, who had a sense of humility but also a sense of faith in the capacity of people to rise up and meet the moment. I’ve had similar feelings since Chelsea passed, so it was nice to hear those feelings echoed in a story about Tom.
Another remark that resonated: in talking about Tom’s impact, his son made the comment that Tom influenced people he never met, through his impact on the people that he did know. So Tom’s influence on his sons has a secondary and tertiary impact on their friends/community members, who then go on to influence their friends/community members, creating a ripple effect that keeps Tom’s legacy active and alive in the world. That’s an idea that has been present in my thinking about Chelsea since she passed: she impacted her students, who will go out in the world and do great things, influencing others; she influenced her colleagues, whose research and teaching will be better because of it, with generations of students reaping the benefits; she influenced me, to the point where my interactions with others are and will be better because I had Chelsea in my life for so long. While Chelsea may have passed, her legacy, like Tom’s, is alive and well in the world today, continuing to make the world better.
So while we mourn the loss of another good human (we’ve lost too many in the last few years), we can celebrate both how he lived his life and the impact he will continue to have in perpetuity. I’ll drink to that (and I did….lots and lots of times….)
