I miss this man more than I could have ever imagined. Time does not always heal all wounds; sometimes it makes the ache more unbearable. The longer he is gone the more painful it is for me.
Thomas gave me the greatest gift ever in my life, he fathered my son.
Tommy had a short and tumultuous life, surviving child abuse at the hands of his mother. Growing up mostly in North Carolina, the brightest spot of his time here was his stint in the military. He joined the Army after high school, serving in the Persian Gulf in 1991.
He loved martial arts, swimming and diving, and being around people. Tommy was a gifted dancer. On more than one occasion I witnessed him clear a dance floor in a club, just like John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever" which was a film he loved.
He also loved the films of Bruce and Brandon Lee. In fact he saw Brandon's film "The Crow" ELEVEN times in the theater. A big fan of The X-Men, our son is named for his comic book heros.
He is missed and loved by those who truly knew him, especially his son and me-his son's mother.
Tommy lost his life trying to keep a man from drowning in a sandpit.
The Little Ship
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea. The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light, and as he disappeared from sight a voice at my side whispered, "He is gone".
But the sea was a narrow one. On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation. Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "He is gone" a glad shout went up in joyous welcome, "Here he comes!"
(I love this poem. I unfortunatley don't know who wrote it but Maria Shriver read it at Tim Russert's memorial service. It was given to her shortly after her cousin, John, died.)
Thomas gave me the greatest gift ever in my life, he fathered my son.
Tommy had a short and tumultuous life, surviving child abuse at the hands of his mother. Growing up mostly in North Carolina, the brightest spot of his time here was his stint in the military. He joined the Army after high school, serving in the Persian Gulf in 1991.
He loved martial arts, swimming and diving, and being around people. Tommy was a gifted dancer. On more than one occasion I witnessed him clear a dance floor in a club, just like John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever" which was a film he loved.
He also loved the films of Bruce and Brandon Lee. In fact he saw Brandon's film "The Crow" ELEVEN times in the theater. A big fan of The X-Men, our son is named for his comic book heros.
He is missed and loved by those who truly knew him, especially his son and me-his son's mother.
Tommy lost his life trying to keep a man from drowning in a sandpit.
The Little Ship
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea. The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light, and as he disappeared from sight a voice at my side whispered, "He is gone".
But the sea was a narrow one. On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation. Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "He is gone" a glad shout went up in joyous welcome, "Here he comes!"
(I love this poem. I unfortunatley don't know who wrote it but Maria Shriver read it at Tim Russert's memorial service. It was given to her shortly after her cousin, John, died.)
I miss this man more than I could have ever imagined. Time does not always heal all wounds; sometimes it makes the ache more unbearable. The longer he is gone the more painful it is for me.
Thomas gave me the greatest gift ever in my life, he fathered my son.
Tommy had a short and tumultuous life, surviving child abuse at the hands of his mother. Growing up mostly in North Carolina, the brightest spot of his time here was his stint in the military. He joined the Army after high school, serving in the Persian Gulf in 1991.
He loved martial arts, swimming and diving, and being around people. Tommy was a gifted dancer. On more than one occasion I witnessed him clear a dance floor in a club, just like John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever" which was a film he loved.
He also loved the films of Bruce and Brandon Lee. In fact he saw Brandon's film "The Crow" ELEVEN times in the theater. A big fan of The X-Men, our son is named for his comic book heros.
He is missed and loved by those who truly knew him, especially his son and me-his son's mother.
Tommy lost his life trying to keep a man from drowning in a sandpit.
The Little Ship
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea. The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light, and as he disappeared from sight a voice at my side whispered, "He is gone".
But the sea was a narrow one. On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation. Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "He is gone" a glad shout went up in joyous welcome, "Here he comes!"
(I love this poem. I unfortunatley don't know who wrote it but Maria Shriver read it at Tim Russert's memorial service. It was given to her shortly after her cousin, John, died.)
Thomas gave me the greatest gift ever in my life, he fathered my son.
Tommy had a short and tumultuous life, surviving child abuse at the hands of his mother. Growing up mostly in North Carolina, the brightest spot of his time here was his stint in the military. He joined the Army after high school, serving in the Persian Gulf in 1991.
He loved martial arts, swimming and diving, and being around people. Tommy was a gifted dancer. On more than one occasion I witnessed him clear a dance floor in a club, just like John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever" which was a film he loved.
He also loved the films of Bruce and Brandon Lee. In fact he saw Brandon's film "The Crow" ELEVEN times in the theater. A big fan of The X-Men, our son is named for his comic book heros.
He is missed and loved by those who truly knew him, especially his son and me-his son's mother.
Tommy lost his life trying to keep a man from drowning in a sandpit.
The Little Ship
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea. The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light, and as he disappeared from sight a voice at my side whispered, "He is gone".
But the sea was a narrow one. On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation. Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "He is gone" a glad shout went up in joyous welcome, "Here he comes!"
(I love this poem. I unfortunatley don't know who wrote it but Maria Shriver read it at Tim Russert's memorial service. It was given to her shortly after her cousin, John, died.)
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