Pictures of my Uncle Tom : Death Poetry

Pictures of my Uncle Tom

When my sister called to tell me

that my Uncle Tom had died

I had images of my life with him

rush vivid before my eyes.

Reflections I thought

had long ago been cast

flashed their pictures forward

these, the memories of my past.

I have a few that I wish

to share with you this day

moments that are a part of me

and in my heart will stay.

Dan and Tom are dancing

The Beatles are blasting in the barn

boots scuffing through the lime

as they grab for my arms

singing, “They call me mellow yellow”

their chore boots click.

The cattle are bawling as they whisper,

“That’s right slick!”

I can hear the string of swear words

Tom’s tractor wheels spin across the road

the manure spreader is trapped

with yet another full load.

Of course, dad says, “I never get stuck.”

Tom’s veins are swelling

as dad laughs at Toms expense

Tom just keeps on yelling.

He was normally a soft spoken man

but, if you knew him very well

you knew when he got mad

he was mad as hell!

I can see his hair flying

him chasing his hat down the gravel

mom watching out the kitchen

as his red hair would unravel.

I see us all moving hogs

before the bus would come for school

and the guys all playing basketball

with the no mans rule.

We went sledding on wooden toboggans

sat behind him at church on Sunday,

went fishing together at the pond

and worked beside him every day.

Jill and Tom went on agate hunts

then Tom would put them in his tumbler

and you could hear his masterpieces

being created in crashing thunder.

I remember Tom sneaking a “cat call” to Jane

as she mowed, and he drove past in the Bobcat

he said, ’It could never make a chore worse

to have something good to look at!”

I loved his sense of humor

his cartoons, his stories of the past.

I admired his love of history

and conserving reminders that would last.

Uncle Tom valued nature

he had a special skill with wood,

he was a craftsman in many mediums

exploring all that he could.

Tom enjoyed time with his grandchildren

they fulfilled and enriched his life.

he had a deep respect for family

he loved his children and Jane, his wife.

Well, we girls will miss calling Tom

singing, then hanging up the line

We sang, “We wish you a Merry Christmas,”

To him every year at Christmastime.

In conclusion, I recapture his advice

in my youth that he gave

on slowing down- especially now

that I’m in my middle age.

He said, “Don’t rush growing up,

it will come soon enough.”

“Someday, you’ll look back

and find being young wasn’t so rough.”

Tom said, “You have eighteen years to practice

and your life will still be full of mistakes.

It’s how you learn to deal with them

that will decide which road your life takes.”

I thought those words were distant

the night he gave them to me

I never thought I’d gaze back

and realize how true they would be.

 Tom was a man of great Faith

and though, we in our grief may feel alone

know he is at peace with his Parents, Laverne,

and all his waiting family with God…

Tom is home.

Written by Sherrie Ball for my Uncle Tom Keppler