My Brother Tom

 

My first playmate was my brother Tom. My earliest memories are of us marching around in a circle in the living room when Hogan’s Hero’s was coming on the tv. I also remember Tom and me beating up our giant teddy bears and having them take falls down the stairs after watching The Wild Wild West on tv.  We also played ‘army’ in the garden although I have to admit that really consisted of me watching Tom set up various scenes with his toy army trucks and those little green army men that the Toy Story movie has brought back into popularity in recent years.

He made up detailed back stories for the scene he was setting up and eventually it would end in one of the army men being lit on fire. That was to simulate the attack that he was describing. His scene was made realistic by stealing the lighter fluid Dad used to fill his lighter and some matches that could always be found in Dad’s desk. (Dad smoked cigars back then so these supplies were readily available and apparently he preferred matches but had the lighter also). Tom would douse the green guy (my name for them) and describe an action scene as he lit him on fire after the ‘attack’.  I was fascinated by the way the green guy would mostly melt when on fire. It looked very grotesque and I loved watching it. I have to note here that parental supervision back then was not what it is today but we all managed to survive our childhood regardless of some of the dangerous stuff we were doing.

Mom used to send us kids out with coffee cans that were half full of water and tell us to pick the Japanese Beetles off of the rose bushes. That would keep us occupied for quite some time as there was never a shortage of beetles on the bushes. (And incidentally those roses smelled so wonderful back in those days. Roses today often have no smell at all….such a pity) It was Tom that came up with the idea of throwing them in the brook to see what would happen. We didn’t know if beetles could swim or not but they never got a chance to even try. As soon as a beetle would plunk onto the surface of that brook a feisty little pumpkin seed fish would come straight up and eat it. We were thrilled and so were the fish! From that moment on we always threw the beetles into the brook and I swear those fish were waiting for them. Not one beetle survived and not one fish went away hungry.

When we were still pretty young and in grammar school I remember we would ride the school bus to and from school because we were too young to walk. There was an older boy on the bus that was destined to be a trouble maker for life; a born bully. He was older than Tom was and Tom was 2 yrs. older than me. This bigger boy started picking on me one day. I don’t know how it all got started but I know I hit him after he had done something to me and he returned fire by slapping me hard in the face. I was slumped down in the seat crying my eyes out but Tom jumped to my aid immediately and punched that rotten kid in the eye. That only made him angrier because Tom was too young to actually hurt him much or make a big enough impact to stop him. He was about to pound Tom into pieces when the bus driver realized what was going on and stopped the bus. He grabbed the bigger boy and hauled his sorry ass up to the front of the bus and chucked him in a seat. That was back in the days when adults in positions of authority (such as the bus driver) didn’t get in trouble for physically handling kids when they were bad. I don’t remember that boy being a problem anymore so he probably was kicked off the bus. However, the bus driver liked me and I got a giant lollipop from him the next day. That made a slap in the face seem not so bad after all but in reality Tom should have gotten a lollipop for coming to my rescue; instead he got the admiration of his younger sister.

As we got older Tom was still pretty much my only playmate. There were no girls in the neighborhood other than me so I hung out with all boys until I was about 11 yrs. old (and yes this was training for the Tom Boy I was to become, much to my mother’s dismay). The boys would build forts in the woods and say that no girls were allowed. I was the only girl around so that was directed at me. But Tom always let me in the forts when the other boys weren’t around. And I was suitably impressed by the skills these boys developed while building these forts. Some were made of tree limbs and were on the ground; some were made from scrap wood that Dad let them have and at least one fort was an underground fort in a pine forest we simply referred to as ‘the pines’. That one was not my favorite as it always made me feel claustrophobic when going inside and once inside it was always cold. They built a shelf area that was supposed to be for a fire but mostly it just backed up smoke into the fort.

But things weren’t always tons of fun with Tom. Every once in a while he’d think of something that he thought was fun that I did not think was so much fun. A good example of that would be when I was in a tube floating on the brook one summer day. Tom arrived on the shore some distance from me; there were others swimming in the water but I’m not sure exactly who they were now as that certainly was not my focus at the time. I was however, focused on the medium sized black snake that was suddenly air borne over my head and about to land in the tube with me. Tom had thrown the snake high into the air in my direction and yes it was a real live snake! That poor snake (I say poor snake because I’m sure it must have been just as scared as I was to find itself suddenly flying) landed in the tube with me and without a second thought I grabbed it and tossed it into the brook. The snake hit the water swimming as fast as it could in the direction of the opposite shore….smart move. Now I’m not going to say I wasn’t terrified of that snake; I was. That was evidenced by the yelling and screaming I did the entire time. But it was purely instinct that made me pick it up and toss it out. And luckily I caught it on the first grab. I can’t imagine what would have happened had it gone nuts trying to get out of the tube while I was going nuts trying to catch it. Strangely enough this little incident has been stored away in my mind as something funny. I’m sure it was funny as hell to see it happen but it wasn’t funny to me at the time. But those of you that have brothers surely know they tend to pull stunts like that on younger siblings from time to time.

Fast forward in time and we are young teenagers, old enough to start working tobacco. By this time Tom and I have a bond of equals but that does not mean he wouldn’t take advantage of a situation if it might turn out to be funny. (Funny at almost any expense was a common theme in my family) It was kind of understood in our family that if it’s funny, it’s not mean. That isn’t necessarily true at all…but that’s the way we thought. So sometimes I was the butt of the joke and sometimes he was. It all depended on who got who first.

Anyway, I remember tobacco as being the hardest job I ever worked but there was one year (I think my second year) it was even worse thanks to Tom. The boys always started working before the girls because they were doing suckering and twisting of the plants before the leaves were big enough for us to sew them. This one year Tom suggested I start working tobacco early so I could make more money. This was the best money an under aged kid could make in those days but it was hard work. So I went to work with him and mostly just boys worked early in the season but they’d hire just about anyone. I learned real quick it was a mistake. If I thought stacking the leaves and sewing was hard it was nothing compared to suckering and twisting. We either spent all day scooching on our butts in wet dirt suckering the plants or spent the day bent over at the waist twisting twine on each plant so it would grow straight. So it was scooch, sucker, scooch, sucker all the way done the row; turn and scooch, sucker, scooch, sucker all the way back….endlessly until you wanted to die. And then when the plants were bigger it was twist; step to next plant; twist; step; twist; step…never standing up straight for row after row all day long until you wanted to die. Tom had somehow managed to sell me on the idea of more money without mentioning the fact that the work was so much harder to do. I wanted to kill him my first day and I’m not sure how many days I actually lasted but I did not finish out that early session with him. I ended up stopping for a couple weeks and starting back up as a sewer in the barns where I had been the previous year. Lesson learned!

Eventually I began to get interested in boys for reasons other than to beat them up. I was quite good at beating the tar out of any boy that dared make me angry. And it was always such a delight to see the look on their faces when they realize they are being beaten by a girl. That phase of a girl’s life doesn’t last long. I call that the Amazon years…but I’m not sure it even lasts for years. I just know all girls will reach a point where they are no longer stronger than the boys. And I eventually reached a point where I was anticipating my first kiss. I assumed because Tom was older than me that he knew all about such things so I turned to him for help. I asked him how to kiss. He gave me some kind of lame advice that I no longer remember but it did register as lame even at the time. I eventually progressed to practicing kissing on the mirror in the living room. This angered my mother to no end when she found kiss prints on that mirror. Ha Ha (I never admitted to it either although I suppose I just let the cat out of the bag here)

Eventually I had my first kiss. It was a disappointment of course. The boy (who I later married and divorced) was no more experienced than I was but made a point of telling the neighborhood kids that I kiss like cardboard. Yes, he was a moron trying to cover the fact that he didn’t know what he was doing either. And then about 2 months later Tom actually came to me to ask ME how to kiss!  I now knew he wasn’t any more experienced than I was. And yes, I gave him equally lame advice and sent him on his way. Isn’t that what sisters were for?

Fast forward again and we are older teens now. I was driving by this time and had my own car so I was probably 16 yrs. old. Tom would have been around 18 yrs. old. I remember pulling into the yard with my light blue Toyota and as I was getting out of the car I could hear a police siren in the distance. I didn’t think too much of it but I did notice it sounded like it was getting closer; probably going to be coming by our house. I can also hear what sounds like a motorcycle coming down the road, getting close. As I turned towards the sound I see my brother Tom come whipping down the street; cuts sharply into the yard; riding across the yard. He looks at me and yells out ‘you didn’t see me’ and he’s gone in the blink of an eye across the yard; up a set of stairs in the back, and on up into the woods beyond our yard. Now I’m not understanding anything that is going on at this point and I didn’t get much of a chance to figure it out either because it seemed like a split second went by and there was suddenly a cruiser in our driveway with a very agitated cop getting out of it. He immediately asked me if I saw someone on a motorcycle come thru here. I looked him straight in the face and said no. At this point I’m now fully aware that Tom was being chased by this cop because he was riding that bike (probably not registered) on the road. I don’t remember which cop it was but coming from a small town we knew them all and liked almost none of them. They used to routinely harass us teens for hanging around up in the center of town. I was not about to be helpful to this cop that’s for sure.

Then my Dad came out of the house. He asked the cop what is going on and the cop tells him he was chasing a young man on a motorcycle and is sure he pulled in our yard. Dad looked at me and said did you see anything and I said nope, didn’t see anything. I just pulled into the yard myself; just got here. The cop did not believe a word of it but Dad just insisted there was no one on a motorcycle here so eventually the cop had to leave empty handed. Moments later Tom comes out from around the back of the house. If he had waited until Dad had gone inside all would have been just ducky. He did not.

Dad took one look at Tom with that guilt written all over his face and turned to me and said you LIED to me! He was really mad! I said yes, I did. He’s my brother, of course I lied for him. Dad was still very angry that he had been made to look foolish lying to the cop but he turned and walked away. I counted myself lucky that he didn’t do anything about it or at least I didn’t get in any trouble. I don’t know what he did to Tom or if he did anything at all. But to this day I still think I did the right thing.

Time moved forward and Tom and I grew up….actually became adults and started doing adult things like dating; going to parties and eventually getting married. Tom and I were pretty tight thru all of it. His friends became my friends and my friends became his friends as well. But life moves forward and brings changes with it. We both started having children and had jobs and spouses that took up most of our time. We did meet at Mom and Dad’s house on weekends for cook outs and general hanging out with whoever showed up and most holidays. It was a different relationship but we were still close. We would still call each other by our nicknames and tease each other about whatever may have been going on in our lives at the time. Life was really good at this point even though everyone in the family had been growing up and heading off to live their own lives. I always felt like I could talk to Tom about anything and I’m sure he felt the same way about me.

I think the tendency to take people and events for granted is just a part of life. We all do it….live and enjoy ourselves with never a thought about what may be coming down the road. We have to live that way don’t we? If we didn’t; if we always kept an eye towards the future we’d be missing something in the present. So when Tom told us he had pancreatic cancer it was a shock. Even after Dad’s stroke and eventual death years before, I never stopped to consider anyone else will die. And for some yet unexplained reason I’ve always expected all of us siblings to die in the order of our ages….meaning the oldest goes first and then the next born and on and on. I know that’s stupid…..really, stupid. But that’s what was in my head.  So it shocked me and I bottled it up. After talking to Tom about it I decided I would try to be as ‘normal’ as possible with him and not break down.

I had already lived thru a very close friend dying of lung cancer. She told me there was nothing worse than having people cry when they saw her. I never cried in front of her and I saw her or talked to her every day until she died. I decided I would do the same for Tom.

Tom lived an hour away from me and he was very reluctant to see people due to how he was feeling and probably just plain fear. Physical visits between us were not many and not often. But we did talk on the phone and there were almost constant emails between us for as long as possible.

I can’t give you a description of the almost 2 years Tom had while he was sick. It’s too painful and it’s not the part of him that I want to remember. I prefer to remember him as my first and best playmate; my defender; my partner in crime and co-conspirator in pranks against the unsuspecting. But eventually the end did come for him. It was hardest on him I think because he was trying to protect the rest of us from seeing just how much pain he was in and from how bad he looked as the cancer ripped through his body. Only a few were allowed in the hospital room with him while he died. I was not one of them.

For a while I was kicking myself for not just going to the hospital and saying the hell with his wishes, I want to be with him before he goes. But now I’m glad I didn’t do that. I was spared the anguish of watching my brother die by inches; I didn’t have to see up close what the cancer had done to him and he spared me the terrible memory of all of that.

 During his wake I was afraid I was going to be expected to go up and view the body. I refused to do it. I did it for my Dad and regretted it for years. I was not about to view my brother dead and then have that picture in my head for the rest of my life. Perhaps I’m a coward, I don’t know. But I’m glad I didn’t go up to say my farewell to Tom. As far as I’m concerned he was already gone and the viewing of the body is just a formality that people do for the family and friends to have closure. I didn’t need it.

I am now as I was then, fully aware that I lost my partner in crime; my co-conspirator; my first playmate and defender. Siblings hold a unique spot in your life as they are the ones that experience and shape your life and their own from the beginning.  They aren’t your parent but they will sometimes protect you. They aren’t the same as your friends but they are there when you need them. And I think perhaps the most important part is the shared memories. They are the ones that can make you suddenly remember something funny or crazy that happened when you were young…and it comes back so vividly, like you are there again….and they remember it too and you laugh all over again about that fun time in your life. No one else can do that like a sibling.

I will always miss you, Tom. You were everything to a little girl who had only her big brother to play with for so long and you made it a really great time. Thank you for being everything you were to me.