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.
