Tuesday, February 25, 2014

remembering Thom

consciousness approaches slowly.
as the morning light approaches the sky,
she breathes softly next to me.

the birds awaken and greet the dawn...
she rolls into my side, hiding her head under my shoulder,
remaining locked in Morpheus' arms.

I lie quietly, listening to the cadence of her breathing
remembering the moments of her life
since she first entered mine.

I first wrote that on April 22, 2011.  My first tentative foray into poetry (which I have definitely not mastered) brought a kind comment from Thom Brown, and gave me the courage to keep writing poetry, mostly in the form of haiku.

I don't think Thom realized the impact he had on me.  We belonged to a diverse blogging group, people from around the world brought together by our love of sharing the written word.  Thom and I also shared a love of photography, and even though he wrote about his neglected left arm quite openly, he never let it prevent him from doing most anything he wanted to, such as photography.  He asked my opinion about cameras one time when he was looking at purchasing a model that would produce higher definition images, and I gave him what little knowledge I had on the subject, flattered that he had asked an amateur like me anything at all about camera specs.

I enjoyed Thom's blog in the almost 3 years I knew him.  He was a prolific writer, with a variety of topics on his blog, as well as lovely photographs of his tree, made into a wonderful video from the almost daily photos he took from his office, in every season.  You can see this tree in all its glory, through several phases, by clicking here.  It captured my artist's heart when I discovered it while visiting Thom's blog after his lovely comment on that fateful April day in 2011.  He often made me smile with his posts, or shed a tear or few.  He had that way with words.  They stuck in my mind, and lodged in my heart.  His pride in and love for his grandson was another thing we had in common.  I loved every post, every word and picture about the Mighty Finn, because I have felt those same emotions and lived similar moments with my own grandchildren.

Thom died at his home on February 9, 2014, surrounded by his loved ones.  I don't think I told him often enough how much his friendship, and those lovely comments he often made, meant to me on a personal level. But somehow, I think he knows.

I invite you to visit his blog To Gyre and Gambol, and soak up his wit and wisdom.  Thom finished many blog posts with the words "I am a fortunate man".

I am the fortunate one.  Thank you Thom.

(I'll miss those Sunday jokes.)


...life, often bittersweet, is still good. ~cath
  find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

18 comments:

  1. You shared a lovely friendship, Cath. I am sure you're missing him a lot and hope that you'll always find comfort in the caring words he left for you. *HUGS*

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    1. He left some great words behind, worth remembering. Thanks for the hug Joy.

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  2. Oh! I remember his comments. I'm shocked that he is gone. I'm so sorry for his loss. I'm off to visit his blog. Thank you for a lovely tribute-

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    1. He was a lovely, caring person Shelly. I wish I had better words to describe him.

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  3. We were fortunate to have known him. A beautiful tribute Cathy!

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    1. Yes we were very fortunate, weren't we Marie?

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  4. Lovely, Cathy, you made me smile, that kind of small and timid bittersweet smile, Thom touched people in so many ways, to me he was a real Renaissance man, and yes, I will miss his Sunday jokes as well.

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    1. A Renaissance man describes him exactly Barbara, to a T. :)

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  5. I am sorry for the loss of your friend. Lovely memorial Cath. ((hugs))

    Beckey
    http://www.etsy.com/shop/queenbsbusywork

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    1. Thanks Beckey, I appreciate your kind words.

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  6. Beautiful Cathy. It's like he is still with us with the words you share.

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    1. A lot of memories went through my head while I was writing that Janine, and I felt as though he was nodding his head at me. :)

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  7. We were so fortunate to have him in our group. He had this amazing capacity to touch each of us on different subjects. Just like you, I am shocked he's gone.

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    1. We were fortunate Muriel. He added a lot to the group. Still hard to believe he's gone.

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  8. I was just missing my dad when I came across this beautiful post. So glad to know his influence will live on...and be passed on.

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    1. It will live on Amy, and is a wonderful legacy to a life well lived. Thank you for stopping by and leaving such a nice comment. I hope his writing will bring the comfort you need right now... and knowing what a special influence he was to so many people.

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  9. I came to this late but your post was so moving that it brought tears to my eyes. Once again, I swallow the reality that he's gone and we will never see those daily photos of his tree nor read his wry commentary or keep up Mighty Finn or see his funny notes on Facebook about the oddities of humankind. Cathy, your beautiful ode to Thom will stay with me for a long time. And yes, he was a special influence to many people and everyone in our group.

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    1. Penelope, isn't it a shame that we never realize what an impact we have on people in our daily connections? Thom is sorely missed, and reading your lovely words caused a wave of sadness and loss to wash over me. I can only imagine the loss and sadness his family is feeling, and think of them in a time like this. Death is never an easy thing to deal with, and when it is the loss of someone as special as Thom, it makes it even harder.

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