Happy 48th Birthday, Timm!

From Mom:


Happy 48th Birthday, Timm!

No gifts, no cards, no telephone calls…just my heart calling out to you! A mother never forgets.

What a day to remember you, Timm, my forever son! It seems like an eternity since I last saw you when you came for Nick’s funeral. The visit was brief, but it meant so much to me. You were busy helping Molly and Jim with a myriad of details for the memorial service. You were doing what you did so well throughout your life, coming along side those who needed help. As a young child you took care of your little classmates. As an adult you helped the elderly, disabled, and addicted to find hope and a better life.

Now, you are enjoying the reward of a faithful life lived in the service of your Lord. No one was with you as you departed this dark planet for a place of Light and Life. How I wish that I had been there! We cannot follow you now, but some day when our time here is over, we will be with you again. Each of us has kept alive our love and memories of you. Time for us has dimmed the sense of your presence but not the reality of our love for you. There is a longing in us that begs for an answer, but the answer remains “wait.” So, I wait in hope.

As I looked through your Bible this afternoon, I found so many notes written in your almost illegible scribble … reminders of people you would pray for or visit…ideas for an upcoming men’s retreat…a copy of a letter that reflected your views on a pressing issue…many Scriptures underlined and marked as needing to be remembered. Holding your worn Bible with pages wrinkled and creased, I could almost feel the intensity of your life and the sense that you were always in a hurry. Was that so? Even so, I cherish your Bible. It gives me a sense that a small piece of you remains with me.

I wish we had heard from Ken or Christie, but they have remained silent. Is your guitar still being loved and played? Who is enjoying your skiing and sporting equipment? Who is now driving your car or riding your bike? These are some of the questions we will never have answered. But, there are some things that we do know. Your camera has been a treasure for Will who has used it in such wonderful ways to brighten us. So many stunning photos have come to continue your pursuit of beauty. Your slides have almost all been scanned. Dave has carefully maintained your writings and shared them with us so that the beauty of your thoughts can live on. These mean so much to me. Molly has carried on your love for and skill in capturing delightful images of children (and adults, too) with her camera. Such a joy to those who receive them! My life has been immeasurably enriched by the memories of the few years that you were in Florida. At times in my sleep, some of those long forgotten memories will float through my dreams. I awake. It was only a dream. In my heart, you live on.

I am thankful for the time you were with us. Wish you had stayed longer.

Happy Birthday!


Mom 

*  *  * 

From Dad:

FOR TIMOTHY ON YOUR 48TH

We stood together constructing

The “Pillar of Light”

On the Oran Bell Tower

We still stand together

You remain a Pillar of Light and Love

To all of us

The way we thought it was is the way

Love,

Dad

*  *  *

From David:


Happy Birthday, Timm!

48 years ago today you came into this world, the fourth and final child of our Bill and Mary Cohea clan.

In early 1963, the times were a-changing -- somewhat. John F. Kennedy was President – he would be assassinated later that year – while George Wallace in his inaugural speech as Governor of Alabama proclaimed, “segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever!” (It’s a good thing that didn’t hold; otherwise, President Obama would not have been allowed to visit areas of Alabama ravaged by tornadoes last week.) Betty Friedan published The Feminine Mystique in February.  Country singer Patsy Cline was killed in a plane crash on March 5.  On April 1, the long-running soap opera General Hospital aired its first episode. On April 8, Lawrence of Arabia picked up seven Oscars, including one for Best Picture, at the 35th Academy Awards. On May 1, The Coca Cola company introduced the first diet drink, Tab Cola. On May 2, thousands of African-Americans were arrested while protesting segregation in Birmingham, Alabama; the police unleashed fire hoses and police dogs on the demonstrators.

And then, on May 4, 1963, you were born. It was early Spring in Evanston, Illinois, a tulip-blooming time, the blossoms on the cherry tree in our side yard just beginning to unfurl a thousand pink paper umbrellas. The Evanston house was a perfect place for you to come into the world, a family house with plenty of room for you. Or so it seemed, back then … 

Timm at his first birthday celebration.

* * *

Fast-forward to 1993, your 30th birthday. The other day I found a journal entry by you from that date:

Tuesday, May 4, 1993

Thirty years old. Talk about feeling old! I can still remember when I was a kid, and thinking that being 30 would mean my life was almost over. It’s a good thing I don’t think that way any more.

At work, three of the people I work with all were waiting for me with presents. I definitely didn’t expect that!

I guess part of my shock came from wanting some sort of celebration, and knowing that today would come and go without any contact from my friends. Sad and I guess a little disheartening.

I catch myself hoping or better yet desiring someone else in my life, someone to help celebrate with and most importantly mark the passing of time. It’s like time slips by and is captured in my memory only. There isn’t anyone who shares the same moments, so they will never be again. That’s hard.

But on the other hand I really have much to be grateful for, a job, friends, another day sober, a quality of life that never in my wildest dreams would I ever have deemed possible, a roof over my head, and a God who has given me a chance to bring Him glory.

I’ve got to admit, that ten years ago, I didn’t think I’d see this day. But here it is, I truly have much to be grateful for.

At some later time, in going back over your journal you drew a bracket down from the start of the third paragraph down to the end, with the words, “Good Stuff.” I’ll venture that your was in the process of getting back to the good part of your history, the healed part, seeing how changes in attitude had great affect on how you saw your past. 

Timm with friends in Winter Haven, FL, ca. 1972.

* * *

Just last week I received an email from a friend of yours from your high school days, who had just recently come across your memorial blog and the news of your death in 2008. He wrote,

What a beautiful and moving blog and photographic tribute to your brother. Facebook just put me in touch with Molly. I was in choir and EYC with them at the Church of the Good Shepherd back in the day. Always loved Timm and your mom and Molly. Knew there were deep family secrets and pain as Timm and I talked about that now and then ... As much as he was able, and I recall Timm's encouragement when my own family was going through hell. He was usually pretty optimistic and kind and entertainingly goofy.

Looks like he finally grew into his big body and the West was good to him. I understand the he was a 12-Stepper, as am I. Remember Molly telling me how he was somewhere out West, wandering and living in his car for a while, and praying for him to find his way.

Looks like he did. Life does have more questions than answers which sometimes pisses me off. I feel sadness, though the news is 3 years old now. Said a prayer for you and your family today in Timm's memory.

 Timm as an acolyte at Good Shepherd Episcopal Church (correct me if I'm wrong, Mom), ca. 1975.

I emailed "BB" back and asked if we could use his email in this post and he replied with his consent, adding,

… Wonderful that your family got a sense of the man Timm had become when so many came to remember him. He did a lot in a short time even though no one knew it would be that way, and left his mark in life. My birthday is May 11th ... I'll think of Timm this week when his comes around.

As I said before, I really admired your mom, sis and Timm. Your mom just seemed like a rock to me. I think your dad had been a minister, if I recall correctly, before they parted. She didn't complain even though I remember sensing that it was a struggle for her to keep the family going. She looks great in the pictures on the site.

I was lucky to be a Good Shepherd at a time when a loving and dynamic sense of God was being conveyed. It helped to have that to tap into when I got sober. I too went on to travel the world and became a periodic, secretly drunk and pretty resentful missionary before really getting going with my drinking career after they showed me the door when the gay thing came into play. Life is complicated, by golly! I had planned to have the perfect little Southern, church going family -1.6 children etc.... Never got the other manual so that has been a journey in itself …

Thanks, "BB", for the memories of Timm, and we wish you well on your journey ...

A photo of Timm I found just this morning from a photo shoot at the Salem capital he took in March 2008.

I think those beautiful early May days in Evanston in 1964 and am strangely reminded of how much things were the same in Salem, Oregon, in April 2008 when you died -- tulips in bloom everywhere and cherry trees like enormous pink origami. You life had run its course – longer than you had expected, far short that we wished. I play the tape forward from that, wondering what you might have been up to now – married perhaps; working full-time as a photographer; maybe living on the Atlantic seaboard between Pennsylvania and Florida or off again in some exotic land, carry the message, extending your love. 

All those possibilities so much a part of the blossoming your were becoming when you left us to become what Mom calls “my forever son.” As she writes above, she holds your Bible as testament to the active faith you had, a resonance that comes through in all of the notes you scribbled in its margins.

I too feel a resonance looking at your images and reading what I journals and other writings I have of you. In them I see you, as Brady says above, “grew into that big body of yours,” your life become full-sized with meaning and possibility. We could see it in those big blue eyes of yours when you were young; that gaze is what we have in the vast store of your images; your yearning heart for love and God is in the evidence of those who remember and miss you greatly.

So happy birthday from all of us, son, friend and brother! Thank you for the life you shared so abundantly with us all.