Old Tom

I remember the stories of his youth, and his journey

I remember the warmth of the July sunlight creeping through the window intruding my slumber

I remember Johnny Cash, Hank Williams and Conway Twitty

I remember anecdotes of the old age when the man among children was just a sprout

I remember the strike of a match and the sudden flame of a lit cigarette

I remember questioning the darkness of his coffee, the sandpaper on his chin, the longevity of the everlasting night owl

I remember the early days when his face never ceased to smile

I remember advice on how to function, how to succeed, prosper, flourish, and fail to conform

I remember learning to be a Noethe

I remember the static, the teasing, the stressless and never serious aura

I remember the sprouting grass and bulbs in the garden just as he once was

I remember the excitement at the arrival of Bob and Sherry, or John and Cindy

The visits to the mall to sit down on benches, or the naps in the breezy backyard

The ears of corn and ketchup sandwiches. The ice cream cones at lake Harriet

I remember the Russian museums with the nesting dolls and the exquisite art

I remember the marina bell, the voyage to Missoula, and the endless constructive criticism and courage

I remember walks around the lake with the eerie sound of geese and rippling waves

I remember Value Village, always awaiting a treasure chest,

I remember the friendship and the everlasting bond.

The secrets, the life lessons that molded me into who I am today

I remember the day the angels came

The dreams of the past for months to come

The disbelief and irony behind what I remember hearing him say “One day I will croak, but at least we will have spent quality time together.”

I remember the constant crave of cookies and coffee

The late nights and endless conversations that still flow through my head

I remember him through Arabrab, who has never been the same since the departure of “Old Tom”

I remember the sudden change

I remember when he was no longer in my life

My best friend, my brother, my mentor

No longer existed. Expansion, distortion, absorption

I remember refusing to view the carcass

I remember the line structure of the brass casket

I remember the smell of the cemetery

The haunting will for life

I remember the years to follow. The inspiration on my life every day

I remember the impact, and the memory, forever.

I remember.