Rebecca Sue Trimble's Words at the
Celebration of Thom's Life
January
16, 2015
I'm a far better writer than public speaker, especially after the worst
day of my life. So I'll be reading instead of entertaining, as an
orator and comedian like my brother, Thom.
As kids we were likely as bratty as any other. But my brother became
the kindest soul ever. I rarely saw him without a smile, except for an
expression of concern. He seemed like a boat with ever sure direction
on the smoothest of waters, even in the worst of storms. He was mindful
and thoughtful of his family, his friends, even strangers.
He had the intelligence, passion, commitment and drive to be anything
he wanted to be. He was without pretense, artifice, and the need for
control. He was surprisingly modest for his stature—for his
accomplished career, his excellent running, the courage to chase
tornadoes, his involvement in politics to the point of pissing off
Ehrlicman/Haldeman (one of those guys) of Watergate infamy, and best of
all, a most involved family man.
All of the above served him well—he found a life that made him truly
happy – allowed him the time for what he held dearest. First he found a
career he enjoyed, where he was well-respected. Then came family, and
two daughters who have inherited his best qualities--though with
teenage angst still to rein in--perhaps jewels in the making, like
their father. And of course, Mary, his lovely wife that I hope to spend
more time with.
Thom's dry, gracious wit was my favorite quality. He was both
gatherer and lynch-pin that attracted and connected so many. I
wish, like so many here, that I'd spent more time with him. That
I'd accepted many more of his invitations. But now, that brings new
meaning and weight to the time we might all spend with each other.
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My memories are not as many, or clear as, I wish, but there are those
I'll never forget:
--the time I smashed his matchbox car behind the door, as severely as I
could, for a six-year old. I'm sure I had good reason. And in
retaliation, he pulled my dolphin's eyes out.
--the time we tried to parachute of the roof using blankets. That
didn't end well.
--Thom and I connecting some old army phones like they had on MASH
between the garage and the fort, which actually worked.
--how we were lured by the colorful flashing lights of the mosquito
truck and ran through the fog of pesticide spewing out the back. It was
the 60's, who knew.
--Tommy, Lynny and I closing off the hallway and turning out the lights
for our pillow fights, though suspiciously, I was the only one with the
headaches after, and from what felt like two pillows pummeling me.
And a rumor of his involvement in herding sheep into a certain dean's
office, for discovery in the morning.
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I still think at times that Thom would find something funny, and then
remember he's gone. I still expect him to open the door when I arrive,
with a smile and beer in hand, saying, as always, “Well it's about
time!”
_________________________________________________________
He's the best person I've ever known...and the last who should have
been taken so soon.