Reflection offered by Thomás Cummings at Tom's service. Thomás and Cindy's photos of Tom's trip to Hawaii are in the Photos section.

Aloha, I’m Thomás and I was close to Tom for 15 years.  He was my best man, along with Mick and Bob, when Cindy and I wed.  He was my best friend, yet there are many who can say that.  I was with Tom when he left this world, and I am honored and blessed to be here with such good people, friends and family of Tom.

I’m a psychologist and a professor, so I want so much to have answers for you and I want so much guide you through the healing process as I have guided others through the years.  But I’m afraid I have answers to only the simple questions and I have so many questions that cannot be answered.  I can answer the what, but not the why.  I see things from a Taoist perspective, so I don’t know much and yet, I know too much.  I do know it was a glorious two weeks in paradise before Tom left this world, but I do not understand the horror that followed and the deep loss we all feel now.  

So… I do know that I don’t know much. My understanding of time, of nature, of love, of the creative force, of the Tao is primitive.  There are moments when I catch glimpses of the ineffable beauty in nature and in people; awe inspiring, yet fleeting.  Now Tomtime, when Tom and I were together, Tomtime I understand. Tomtime was beautiful, a heightened awareness of the beauty of nature, of the deep miracle of music, of reverberating laughter no matter how silly or sophomoric the joke.  The laughter tells of the instant connection between Tom and I when we simultaneously discovered some irony, some wonderful similarity among people so seemingly different.  Laughter was our way of rising above the crippling sadness of the human condition. 

A memory occurs to me, when Tom and I climbed the Blanca, Ellingwood, and Little Bear Fourteeners in southern Colorado.  We set off early in the morning to summit Little Bear, the most dangerous of all the 55 fourteener peaks.  It has a section in it called the ‘bowling alley’, because any rock knocked loose from above converged as it tumbled down this shoot we had to scale up.  We overtook two Czech brothers along the way who were also summiting Little Bear that morning.  They were not "wild and crazy", but very nice…I think ultimately Tom and I were the wild and crazy ones.  They had ropes and helmets and we had none, so they offered to go up with us and share the equipment.  Along the way we shared stories of other peaks, and shared words from our different languages that represented everything from ‘trail mix’ to ‘amazing view’, to ‘lean back and hold on tight’.  We summated safely together, and on the top we shared smiles, camera shots, and, well, gas.  This is a common side effect of trail mix, and possibly depressurization from the altitude difference, I don’t know for sure.  So Tom, in his insatiable desire to understand other cultures asked the Czech brothers ‘How do you say ‘fart’ in Czech?”.  They looked at each other, puzzled, then one said, “pdrt”.  “Pdrt?” Tom asked. “Pdrt, yes”.  Tom and I looked at each other and said, “Pdrt?”.  “Yeah, pdrt”.  I asked “how do you spell that?” and Czech brother said, “p-d-r-t”.  I said “p-d-r-t…but there’s no vowels in that?” And Tom says, “We need a vowel movement”.  Tom and I crack up, laughing uncontrollably while the Czech brothers look askance at each other and look at us curiously.  Then I asked, “Pdrt, is that the sound or the word?”  And the Czech brothers look at each other like these guys are weird!, and the one answers, “The  word is the sound”.  So…we learned that day, atop Colorado’s most dangerous fourteener, an important cultural tidbit; that in the Czech Republic, onomatopoeias are a gas.  After descending the mountain, we bid goodbye to our Czech brothers.  Farting is such sweet sorrow, but I’m sure they were relieved.   

So…I know some things with certainty.  I know that Tom was the most patient, most easygoing, most helpful person I have ever known, and yet he was the most humble.  And I do not use superlatives wantonly.  He modeled these attributes for Cindy and me, and for so many others.  He was great with Lili; ‘Unca Tom’ played with her, made her laugh, and played the erhu for her.  He carried her along the trails, under the waterfall, and over the rainbow. 

Lokahi is a Hawaiian word meaning harmony; Tom, in his most subtle, tender way, embodied Lokahi.  Like the harmony we love in nature in balance, Tom tendered harmony among friends in the Zimbabwean music community and the film community. Tom nurtured Lokahi, Tom’s spirit is Lokahi.       

Tom and I climbed 24 Colorado Fourteener mountain peaks together.  He was surefooted, he was strong, yet he treaded lightly in the wilderness.  He danced like no one was watching, like there was no tomorrow.  Yet he didn’t get drunk, he was always straight and sober, always.  So much so that those of us who survived the 60s referred to him as the ‘control group”, or just ‘control’ for short.       

So, Why Tom?  I cannot understand this at all, he is the last one we would expect to fall in the wilderness. 

But I now know that life is so sweet, friendship so precious, and yet life is so fragile. I know that now, thanks to Tom.

And I do know with certainty that Tom was truly happy, at peace, and in a state of bliss when he stepped off of heaven on earth into heaven on high.  The night before, at Pololu Valley, Tom exalted, “I just love this, sleeping under the stars, hearing the waves, I could do this for the rest of my life”.  And Tom did.

Though we think Tom left this world and we cannot hike with him, play music with him, or work with him as we did, it feels like he did not leave us.  I feel him in me, around me, I see him in you, surrounding us all.  I feel his patience, his forgiveness, his charity amongst us all.  So, I don’t know for sure, but I wonder whether the boundaries we assume between us are just another illusion.  I suspect there is less separation between us than we think.

 So, don’t think…listen…

Tom has taught me that we should
Love each other like there’s no tomorrow.
That we should not hold back for fear of rejection or some other fallible reason.  Don’t wait, be tender.  Forgive, move past the fear.  Forgive even though we cannot forget, for those who are closest tend to be those who can hurt us the most only because we love them so much.  And they are the ones who can heal us most deeply.  Forgive. Be ever mindful of the ultimate grace in each other, and in nature.  This is Tom’s lesson to me, because Tom is Lokahi. 

In the Hawaiian language Aloha comes from two words, alo means ‘sharing’ and ha means ‘life, or breath’.  Colloquially it means love, hello, or goodbye depending on the situation.
In this case, with Toms passing, it means it all.
Aloha, Tom, Aloha All