RIP Uncle Tommy

It was late Thursday night when I got home from State Wrestling. I’d plugged my phone
in to charge and I heard it signal that I had a new text message.
By that time of the night, I’m never in a rush to see what else needed my attention, but I
did so about 20 minutes later. My sister texted me that our uncle, Tommy, had died.
It was too late for my mind to register or deal with that news, so I went to bed.
The next morning was a different story. I’d gotten up early to get back to the Casey’s
Center. I called my aunt to confirm the news, and well, it was true.
Uncle Tommy and I had an odd relationship. There were times I despised him, but
others, he was one of my favorite people.
As my age has progressed, I’ve realized that he only wanted the best for me. Such as,
when I wasn’t going to go to college, he pulled me aside and told me, basically, “don’t
be an idiot.”
The last thing I remember him telling me was, “I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”
Back when I was a kid, he’d basically haze me. I think he was just tying to make me
tougher, because life certainly has not, and will not, treat me with white kid gloves.
He was an underachiever, who struggled to hold a job or maintain interest in something
for very long. That didn’t help his relationship with my dad, who always considered him
a loser. If he had been able to focus, apply himself more and balance his asthma with it,
he could have made a very good living as a carpenter.
But Tommy could be fun to be around. Even when I was the butt of his elaborate
attempts to embarrass, it came from a place of love.
Trust me, there were MANY of these in my childhood and adolescence. That’s okay,
because as I got older, he got balder and I had fun teasing him about that.
He was one of the people who got me into pro wrestling and worked with promoters
around Ottumwa before I was born or able to make memories. I can’t confirm it, but he
claimed he got to hang out with and drink with Andre the Giant. Tommy always had a
way to embellish things, but my parents backed up that claim.
Before last week, I hadn’t talked to him in a few years. He and his wife had moved to
Arkansas. I’ve been so busy with the business here that it’s been hard to keep up with
most people – let alone family that had moved out of state.
Friday morning, I was sitting in the empty seats at the arena, talking to my aunt, Peggy,
about what had happened. She described, basically, a decline and disappearance of the
fun-loving, goofy uncle I had known.
Tommy had suffered a couple of strokes. He developed lung cancer, brain cancer and
other conditions that generally led to his quality of life slowly diminishing over a few
years.
The brain bleeds and strokes had affected his memory. Peggy said, while in the
hospital, he’d asked why my mom had not stopped to visit him. She had to remind him
that my mom passed in 2015.
You always wish, at first, you’d seen your loved one that last time to say goodbye, but
from the way she described him, he was a miserable shell of himself.
I’d prefer to keep my last memory of him as the smart ass with whom I’d grown up. I
watched my dad die, and though I hold on more tightly to the good memories of my dad,
his last days and moments easily come front and center on occasion. I really don’t need
memories like those of Tommy.
I didn’t know how I’d react to my conversation with Peggy, but sure enough, the
waterworks came as I was sitting there in the empty arena, with just a few wrestlers and
coaches down on the floor in front of me.
Then she told me he would still occasionally flirt with his female caregivers at the
hospital, as he always had. That made me smile.
Thanks for letting me vent here about my Uncle Tommy. He’s always got a special place
in my heart. Ultimately, I know my mom is glad to have reunited with him and I am glad
to know he is no longer suffering.
Take care of yourself and thank you for reading.