tom stack
December 11, 2019
Tuesday, September 26, 1950
Saturday, September 16, 2017
I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Kathi – my friend Tom’s wife – moved back to Pittsburgh back in September and today, we spent the morning walking through Phipps Conservatory. The Winter Flower show was beautifully pretty.
And talking with someone who lived with and loved a dear friend was a restorative experience.
And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
I wanted to know about Tom’s end-of-life and Kathi was amazingly generous and honest.
Tom died two years ago and I’ve been trying to write an in memorium for him ever since. I think today, after spending the time with Kathi, I can write about Tom.
My mind’s distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
Tom and I were friends from our time at the Novitiate in Narragansett. The friendship was forged in the winter of 1968/69. One of my favorite memories of that time is of a bunch of us going out walking, after a huge snowstorm, through the fairways of the golf-course that surrounded the Novitiate property. I got stuck in a snow-drift and Tom lay down flat on the surrounding snow and reached over to pull me out of the mound. (who knew that a kid from Queens, could conquer 10 feet of snow.)