I am so honored that you asked me to write a remembrance for Tom. He meant the world to me, was like my other dad, another grandpa to my girls. My heart is broken thinking about what life is going to be like without him. When I started thinking about what I was going to write, I thought about all the avenues I could take. A poem? Nope. Tom was not really the poetry type. An essay? Nope. There is no way an essay would be able to capture the essence of what Tom meant to the people sitting in these pews today. How in the world could I ever get through this task? How could I capture Tom and what he meant to everyone here? How would I ever find words that would honor the man that so many loved and adored? Anything I could ever write would not be good enough. I worried. I stressed. I cried. I panicked. And then right when I was thinking about giving up, calling you and saying that this task was far too difficult and I just couldn't follow through, a Harley passed through the intersection at Fairgrounds and Central Valley Road, revved its engine, and flew down the road past our house. I smiled, with tears streaming down my face, closed my eyes, and pictured Tom, on his Harley, maybe flipping off the driver that had just cut him off, and zooming off into the sunset. And just like that, all the words I needed were right there in my mind.
Hebrews 13:16 says, "And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased." As we were leaving the hospice house after saying goodbyes to a man that I loved so, and I was hugging Sherri, the words that I wanted to say to her were lost. I wanted so badly to console her. To share some great healing words, but I couldn't think of anything. I prayed for God to give me the words to help her at that very second. I squeezed her tight, held her close and whispered, "Thank you so much for sharing him with us." Because that is truly what happened. Her family shared Tom with so many people and I know I speak for everyone when we all thank the Deem girls collectively for giving us the opportunity to know and love Tom Deem. He was a loving husband, a doting father, and the best grandpa to little Edie. He was a true family man, loving and celebrating the successes of his family with each tender moment.
After being a family man, he was a biker. Many of us will remember him, on a motorcycle of some sort, leather jacket with patches, and the biggest grin on his face. He loved riding Harleys. He loved working on and riding antique motorcycles. He loved taking rides on his motorcycles and would often call buddies, friends, and family to join him and Sherri on impromptu rides. He knew more backroads than anyone and just when you would think he had gotten you lost for good, you would come out and end up right where you needed to be. He loved to tell of the time he went to Sturgis and there were so many bikes he needed to wait until they all cleared out so he could find his bike. Sometimes, Sherri would lose her spot on the bike to Rachel or Miranda as we rode to Pateros or Mossyrock or any of the other many adventures together. So, from all of Tom's biker friends and family, thank you for sharing him!
Tom also loved to travel, on a motorcycle or in a motorhome, in a hotel or in a tent. He loved camping and being with friends and family. Many memories of making beer at Dosewallips (and maybe drinking too much), the tents blowing away at Pateros, teasing us about rattlesnakes in the trees at Alta Lake, and tricking him by making hobo pies with a combination of everything from dinner that night. So, from all of Tom's camping friends and family, thank you for sharing him.
Tom was a man with a gruff exterior. He burped. He farted. And he didn't care who was around to hear it. When anyone would introduce someone new to Tom, it usually came with a warning: "So, Tom likes to burp. And fart. And he might eat off your plate at dinner, but he's a really nice guy!" Tom always carried a fork in his pocket so he could be ready to eat at a moment's notice. He would always ask "Ya got your fightin' gear?" and grin his mustached grin when we was teasing you. And he always shared that no matter how full you were, there was always room for dessert because that went to another place in your stomach. When dinner was over, he'd always encourage everyone to keep eating because whatever we didn't eat "would be in your omelet at breakfast the next morning." So, from all of the people who knew and loved the little things about Tom, thank you for sharing him.
There are a thousand more things I could share and remember about Tom Deem. How he was such a gentleman (except for the whole burping and farting thing). How he was so kind (except for when he might have to flip someone off for being a butthead, as he might call them). How he would do anything for anyone at anytime. For all the little memories that everyone has of Tom, thank you for sharing him!
Losing Tom so quickly from our lives ripped a hole in many of our hearts. We all have the special memories and stories of Tom locked away in our hearts and in our souls. Stories and memories that will get us all through the days, weeks, and months ahead. Memories of his voice, his laugh, his basketball belly, the way he would suck on his teeth, the sparkle in his eye when he was talking about motorcycles, or Sherri, or Miranda and Rachel, or Edie. Treasure him in your hearts! Tell your stories of him to each other! Remind the Deem girls often what an amazing, wonderful man their father was. Continue to share him with each other! One day, we will be reunited! One day we will see him again! And I'm sure that he will greet us all, a smile wide across his mustached face, a leather jacket in hand, a fork in his pocket, and a hug for those he has left behind. God blessed us all when he shared Tom with us. So, to our Heavenly Father, we all say thank you for sharing him!
