This, Too, Shall Pass!

            I admit that living is complicated, but it’s all we have.  At least, we have several opportunities to improve it.  Nothing can be done after dying.  I wouldn’t know, but I haven’t heard anyone returning to forewarn us.

 

            Once again, another friend of mine is in hospice.  The older I get, the more losses I experience.  Captain Tom was my shipmate whom, after 40 years or so, I got in contact with regarding my mental concerns.  While sailing across stormy waters, we lost a fellow shipmate during the hurricane.  I was on duty in the pilot house and on the 1MC.  The captain had me announce that all men remained inside the ship's skin due to the weather conditions.  No one needs to go on deck to see how it looks.  We could see the 30-40 feet swells and white-capped waves from the pilot house.  The ship was fighting to stay on course.  A few shipmates didn’t listen.  Two did go outside, and one was washed overboard.  The swells had moved us away from the sailor, and it took some time for the ship to come about.  When we located him, the swell picked the boat up and dropped it on top of him.  He was struggling but alive, not afterward.  

 

Bob Uecker & Captain Tom

            I have always carried the blame but was able to shelve it in the background of my mind.  It did not surface until I was appointed the head of the veteran program in a homeless shelter.  I had always wondered why I was so edgy and distrustful of people.  My wife had me go to the VA to find out.  I was diagnosed with PTSD.  After 40-plus years, I finally realized the truth.  When I got out of the Navy, I thought it was high blood pressure and other health issues.  We never thought to look at my state of mind.  Now it’s too late.

 

            I searched for Tom on Facebook for the name and dates of the tragic event. I’ve never been a fan of social media. I found him and a couple of other shipmates, and we sorted it out. He spent 38 years in service and was quite a journalist.  Since then, we have maintained correspondence for the past two years.  We shared some pictures of our families and discussed retirement and traveling.  He was so proud of his family and their accomplishments.  Most of all, his grandchildren were the ones who controlled his heart.  He bragged about his wife Diane, who has been his anchor and soulmate throughout his journey.  They took more ocean cruises than I could count.  It was an annual event with them.  I remember they had to stay in New York under quarantine during Covid because he caught it.  He didn’t have the virus, but he was around someone who did, not his wife, but they had to remain separated from others.

 

            In our conversations, he told me that he did have cancer and was receiving treatments.  He would still go on cruises but took the shorter ones whenever the doctor permitted.  He never gave up or let it get him down.  He remained positive the entire time.  The treatments did exhaust him, but he never stopped journaling.  Tom was involved in several community-based programs helping people and was a member of several rotary, local, and national clubs.  I tried to contact him again, but I’m sure Diane is shielding him and making preparations.

 

            I am sad but blessed to have known Tom.  He was authentic, not a fake representation of a man with integrity and honesty.  Like many folks who have suffered physically, he will not be hurting when he’s called home.  Tom left an impact on many of us.  He’ll be missed mourned, but never forgotten.  This, too, shall pass.  While we are still living, we don’t need to make any excuses why we can’t change.