|Tommy Would Laugh His Ass Off at This|
I didn't find out that Tommy had died until about two years after the fact. I found out about it on one of the Nimitz High School Alum sites. I was devastated. I had lost my brother to that most hideous of diseases, cancer. God, I wish I could have been there when he was sick. My sister, Cheryl, goes to church at the same church as Tommy's widow, Rita. Rita told Cheryl that as Tommy lay on his death bed, he wanted to"call my brother, Cecil". I feel like somebody is kickin' me in the gut every time I think of that. When Tommy needed a brother, I wasn't there for him. It hurts my heart real bad. But, I'm sure Tommy understood and forgave me. Still, I feel physically ill because I didn't get one last chance to tell him how much he had touched my life. He helped through some of the toughest times of my life back then and never asked for a thing in return. I don't want to get too mushy, I know Tommy is looking down from his place in Heaven and isn't liking the fact that I am making a big deal about his life and death. God, it pains me to write that word, "death", about my brother. As I have said before, I hope that I was half the friend to him that he was to me. Tommy was one of God's gifts to me. A gift I treasure to this day. A friend, a beer drinking buddy, a brother. Put simply, Tommy Thompson was a good man.
Because Toby said so.
I love you, Tommy.
UPDATE: My wife, Heather, left a comment on this story a few minutes ago. I originally was going to write something similar, but she said it much better than I ever could. Heather said: