Tom taught me years ago that when we truly and deeply love someone, we allow ourselves to become hostages to fate.  When that happens, there is nothing more important in your life than seeing the light in a loved ones eyes, and there is nothing you wouldn't do to have that continue as long as possible.  Over the years I have often felt "time's winged chariot" at our backs, but many, many times have been so grateful to find that day postponed by grace.  Sharing my life with Tom has made me the most fortunate of people, and I woudn't have missed it for the world. 

As Sweet William said in another connection in his Farewell to Black-eyed Susan, "We only part to meet again.  Change as ye list, ye winds;  my heart shall be the faithful compass that ever points to thee."

       He often had such an outdoorsy look that one day, after my Dad picked me up from a gr 8 school dance wearing a large sheep-skin jacket, a shaggy beard, and holding a husky dog  from  each arm (much to my embarrassment!) the boys in the class asked me if my Dad was Grizzly Adams!

Sometimes he would get postings as a minister to locations in cottage country for the summer, such as MacGregor Bay or Stoney Lake. I don’t think any of us truly appreciated how lucky we were to spend whole summers together as a family in these beautiful places. I sometimes wonder if my positive associations with going to church are partly due to my experiences at these places on a Sunday, hearing his deep voice resonate through the small wooden church while through the partially opened windows we could see pine branches swaying and hear water lapping at the shores. 

  In later years whenever I talked to my Dad on the phone he would always tell me about the deer or the fox he had seen when he was out walking, or the birds he could see from his window busily building nests. He felt a strong spiritual connection in nature and I know that it also helped to spur his writing as he always went for long walks when he needed to think deeply or find inspiration.

Another memory I have which affected me in a different way was the way he treated the homeless who sometimes hung around the liquor store on Spadina. There was one tall aboriginal man who always said, “Hello Tom” when he saw my Dad. Rather than give him money, my Dad, on occasion invited the man into a diner, buying a sandwich and coffee for  each of them, and sitting down together to eat at the counter, much to the vexation of the owner. I was impressed with the respect he showed the man and his bravery at not worrying what those around might think.  

I could go on, but will just say, he was an amazing and unique person and I feel extremely proud and fortunate to have called him Dad. We’ll miss him so much, and I will always remember him particularly fondly when sitting around a campfire or taking a walk in the woods.

Tom’s last message

·      My hope for each of you is this:

·     That while you are in your body, you will love, laugh, smile and ask millions of questions. Live each moment with love, passion and a deep respect for the life you have been given. While you are here, walk until your feet will no longer move. Greet strangers with warm eyes, and write a letter to someone you admire. Fall in love with the natural world and see as many sunrises as you can.

·     Imagine that you had a conversation with the Source of all creation, and that you were told you are here to live the greatest life possible for you-because you have.

·     If not for you, all the good that you have done would still need doing. If not for you, the spark of your ideas would not have ignited a fire in others. If not for you, the key role that you have played in life's drama would remain unfilled. If not for you, at least one person would not have awakened to his or her dreams. If not for you, someone who needed love would not have received it. If not for you, an animal might be homeless and a garden left unplanted. If not for you, a life would have been shortened or never existed.

·     If not for you, there would be a place of emptiness in the heart of God. You are the face, the heart, and the soul of God. One day you too will be coming home. Until then, every blessing.

Tom was 10 years my senior but that difference in ages did not prevent a close relationship until he left home for residence at U of T at 18 as we shared a bed. It was cozy but worked well despite the fact that, in order to accommodate his expanding frame, he slept diagonally across the bed. Fortunately at that age I was a runt and could make do with a corner and it was fair exchange for the stories he told me about animals and imaginary events for he was a story teller even then. The tales he told lit the fire of my curiosity and imagination which, thankfully, still burns brightly.

He taught me many things in those years most of it unwittingly. Struggling with him physically taught me that force was not a useful way to effect change.  He could make me "surenser" quickly but it rarely changed my opinion. He taught me to hunt and fish which had the unintended result of arousing so much empathy for the creatures involved that he refused to take me fishing later in life as he said I made him feel guilty about catching anything and he would often wind up throwing fish back. 

The bed arrangement became difficult when we both required the whole bed and at that point when he would come home from residence for a weekend I would wake on Saturdays in a spare bed with no idea how I got there only to be advised by Tom that I had walked down of my own accord after giving him an argument when he woke me the night before. We took different paths at almost every turn Tom treated me gently most of the time and in exchange I disassembled his prized possessions, toy train set, bicycle and flashlights with the intent to repair as I remember it. I can only recall one instance of pique in all of this despite repeated aggravation.

He taught me that you could debate, even argue with our father and survive an important step to the mental self-employment Tom wished to encourage in us all. The lively debates during family dinners covered a broad range from the perils of Catholicism to the need for Tom to come out more strongly in support of the Conservatives and what project Tom should pursue next. I listened but stayed out of the fray. Tom played the flute and to this day I love to hear Largo on the flute it always takes me back to those days with Betty on the piano.

Thomas was always reading and the books about nature and about science that he left around served to set me on a lifetime of reading particularly the books on science that he paid less attention to. Tom excelled at sports while I was not great and he would refer to me as quadrupeds for my lack of ability to catch a ball. I don’t remember being upset by that but it may explain why I never got into many sports other than running and eventually rugger which I played with him. He was a prop I was a Lt. wing on the U of T team. He had cause to develop a better appreciation of my skills with mechanical things as he at one time owned a 31 chev coupe that would frequently quit for no reason he could fathom. I would make my way to wherever he had left the car and often with no more than a pat on the bonnet get it started and drive it home. He was also renowned for his skill at losing keys so required my services to open suitcases and such on a number of occasions.

One his most impressive accomplishments in my eyes was not in the realm of scholastics or journalism but in the simple ability to persuade a commercial airline to fly him across the Atlantic C.O.D. once in the early 50’s. In the midst of a romantic crisis he was determined to get back to Canada post haste to set things straight. He had managed to talk his way onto the plane but the airline refused to permit him to disembark in Canada until our father had wired the fare to them at the airport. As phone calls go dad was less than thrilled with that one.  Unfortunately the effort proved futile as Tom’s words proved less persuasive in the romantic arena.  

Thomas excelled at pretty much whatever he tried, not without hard work but he made it look easy. School was not just something he did well he took prizes. What an act to follow. I had his chief competitor as my Latin teacher the year I failed grade 10 and I heard, “Your Tom’s brother you can do better.”, so often that year I began to think it was my name. Fortunately we both survived and as adults remained fast friends and confidants through many of life’s trials and despite following different paths arrived at very much the same destination with convictions that coincided and equally strong beliefs in the Christian message as we came to understand it.

Thanks for the journey Tom you were a truly great Big Brother in every way and I will miss your wisdom and council but more your presence by a fire in the bush, out in a canoe or by a beach far from the maddening crowd.

Your little brother, George