A Long Goodbye

· 5 min read

Man in a navy uniform “My sweet cousin, Tom.”

I was seven years old when I fell in love with Tommy Allen. The fact that he was my first cousin meant nothing to me. The fact that he was home from the Navy wearing his sailor whites meant EVERYTHING. swoon He was dreamy. 

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was playing on the floor with my brother. We had a bunch of little plastic barnyard animals and some Lincoln Logs, creating the wilderness cabin of Daniel Boone. It was a sweltering hot summer day and I wore a violet colored cotton dress. They say it matched my eyes. My bare arms were brown from the sun. My bare feet were brown from the WV dirt.

My cousin, Donna Jean, was in high school. She was playing Elvis Presley records on the stereo…his mellow voice coming through scratchy and thin. A car door slammed out front and my Aunt Marge came running from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

“He’s here!” The screen door didn’t even swing shut before she was out on the porch wrapping her boy in her mom-hug. I ran to the door and peeked out to see what the ruckus was all about. And…there he was. His pompadour slicked back. His Navy whites, crisp and clean, glaring in the July sun. His marine blue eyes sparkled when he saw me and grinned. He gave me a knowing wink, and I was smitten.

Man in captain hat “Captain Tom”

We didn’t get to see each other much. He married and moved to Paden City, then New Martinsville. He raised his family. He worked hard in one of the chemical plants that dot the Ohio River banks from Pittsburg to Louisville. Then, in 1976, my parents divorced. By this time I was married myself with a little one of my own and lived in Colorado. I am embarrassed to say, I didn’t have much to do with my father’s family after that. There were a lot of reasons why…none of them good.

My father died in 2008. For some reason, I didn’t think there would be but a handful of people at his funeral. If he was the same man to others as he had been to me and my family, this would be a pretty quick, cut and dried affair. Imagine my surprise when the church was full to overflowing at my father’s memorial service! I listened to people tell me what a wonderful man he was. How he was a central figure in their church. A pillar of the community. “He would give you the shirt off his back.” I heard over and over. It wasn’t the man I knew, but I realized…he was the man THEY knew. And this funeral was for them.

Almost all of my cousins from my dad’s side were there. I greeted them politely before the service. When we all went to the basement after, I sat in awe and listened to the stories they told me about my dad. I told them about the man I knew. We were both dumbfounded. But, the really GREAT part is…even though I had walked away from them all in 1975, they greeted me with open arms in 2008 like I’d been there all along. I fell in love with them all…all over again.

About four-and-a-half years or so ago, my handsome cousin Tommy was diagnosed with mesothelioma. It is a cancer of the covering of the lung but can appear anywhere. And it comes from exposure to asbestos. He was exposed in the Navy shipyards and the plant in which he worked. The average life expectancy for mesothelioma patients is 12-21 months. Approximately 40% of patients live past one year, and only 9% live longer than five years. He was determined to do everything he could so he went to NIH and participated in clinical trials. 

It bought him some good time. He fished and hunted and was his normal, happy, feisty self. Then one of the trial drugs nearly killed him. That’s when he decided…he’d had enough. His wife, Suzy, contacted me and said it was time to come for a visit. No one said it out loud, but I knew this was my last visit with this sweet man. By this time, he didn’t have the energy to go exploring or out to eat. So, we just sat at home. We talked. We laughed. I recorded him telling me stories. It was bittersweet. The ride to the beach was long and quiet.

I met fifteen gals from my high school for coffee yesterday morning. I was going to the funeral home afterwards. Lisa, the friend who married Mr. FixIt and me, lost her mom Thanksgiving Day and the viewing was yesterday. I picked up my phone to see what time it was because I didn’t want to be late. That’s when I saw the text from Suzy. Our Tom passed at 1:35 yesterday morning. 

Woman hugging man “Tommy and Me”

I tried not to cry, but the tears slipped too easily down my cheeks. My friends were wonderful and hugged me. I showed them his picture. I told them I fell in love with this handsome sailor when I was just a little girl. And now, he has crossed over the last trout stream and is off on a great bear hunt in the sky. I will miss you, Tommy…you were a heck of a good man.

Today would have been their 57th Wedding Anniversary. Suzy has never lived alone. But, she has lots of love and support. She will get through this in her own way…in her own time. Those of us who have walked this particular path have an understanding of what she is going through today. Please keep Suzy and all who loved Tom in your prayers. ?

““Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.””

John 14:1-4 NIV