(Author's Note: I have not been directed, petitioned, or otherwise received permission to write anything that would serve or substitute as a eulogy for Thomas F. Riley. I simply record these memories because they are important to me and because in such a small amount of time, Tom made an enormous positive impression.)
I met Tom Riley sometime around 1986. I was best friends with his youngest boy, Tim, and as such was a frequent stowaway at Tim's mother's duplex. Tom was there most weekends as well. Even though he and Tim's mother were divorced, they got along well and you could tell he enjoyed being near his boys. It occurs to me now, that this was Tom's insurance policy. He stayed close to remain in his son's lives and protect their shared relationships. He didn't let the break-up of a marriage impede him from the duty of parenting, and perhaps more impressively, he didn't use it as an excuse. He continued to teach his boys how to become men. And when the time came, he acknowledged their arrival.
It should be noted for those that did not know him, Tom Riley was a big man. Often, a person is described as big, figuratively - a "big" philanthropist, a "big" businessman. While these labels may have also applied, what I mean to say here is that his size was impressive. He had a shock of thick hair that at the time was more silver than black, always neatly cut and fixed. He carried a scent of masculine cologne with a undertone of cigarette smoke. I noticed even back then that he had the build and hands of an athlete, although it would be in his obituary that I would discover he had been a scholarship member of the football squad at the University of Tulsa. He had a deep voice and a relaxed laugh. He was handsome and strong, but never showy.
Whenever I was in Tom's presence, his focus was exclusively on his children and their friends. He doted on his boys. He hugged them and kissed them and called them "baby" and "honey" which initially struck my ear as effeminate, or at the very least, emasculating. What I would come to understand is that in the Riley's shared language these terms were not used in relation to gender but rather, spoke to level of affection. He loved his boys deeply and without shame.
The first time Tom addressed me in such a way was mat-side after a wrestling match I had lost. I was disappointed in my effort, and I was not a gracious loser. He wrapped his arms around me and said, "Honey, shake it off. You're a star. You'll get 'em next time." He cupped the retreating side of my sweaty head in his oversized hand and pulled it into his chest, mashing my face into his sweater. After that, I didn't care what he called me. I kind of just hoped he'd always be there when I lost.
As the years passed and we made our way to college, Tim and I found new sets of friends and interests. Our circles overlapped on occasion but with less frequency than in our teenage years. Understandably, I saw Tom less as well. I was too preoccupied at the time to know how much I missed him, but looking back on it now, it was evident.
The last time I saw Tom Riley was at Tim's wedding, it must be more than 15 years ago now. He was happy. He had so many people crowded around him, celebrating with him, that I was reluctant to approach. But he caught me in mid-slink and carved his way towards me. "I am so proud of all you boys, you all have really grown up to be fine young men" he said, absolutely beaming.
I didn't have the guts to tell him I was failing most of my classes, or that I didn't really know what the hell I was doing with my life. I couldn't have expressed how lost or scared I was that I would never know what or who I was supposed to be, even as we were celebrating the union of two people who were defining a significant part of their new identities - husband, wife. All I could really do was smile sheepishly and accept his misplaced praise.
Sometimes you can find yourself so physically removed from a person you admired earlier in life, that the time you spent together seems fictional. I don't know if my recollections of Tom - the way he looked, the way he talked, the way he acted - are true, or if they were constructed in decades of absence to fit the narrative of my life. I feel certain that I can see him in a v-neck sweater with a starched, button-up shirt underneath. I am fairly confident that I can recall the smell of leather and cigarette smoke belonging to the interior of his car (some kind of Ford - a Thunderbird, or maybe a Taurus?). My memories are slippery and I am often suspicious of them.
One thing I am sure of is that I enjoyed being around Tom. He never talked down to me or treated me like a kid. He cared for me because I was his son's friend. He cared for me whether I won or lost, whether I was right or wrong. For whatever reason most of my friends grew up in households affected by divorce, their fathers absent physically or emotionally or both. Tom was a father in a world that needed more fathers.
It's has taken a long time for the lessons I learned from being around Tom Riley to take hold. I guess I had to have a child before they could fully manifest. Legacies have a peculiar way of appearing at the right time.
Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I love my boy publicly, without shame - and that I call him "baby", "honey" and "darling" without a moments thought to how that might sound to any other person. I know the day will likely come when my son will be embarrassed of my affection and attention. I am prepared for that. When he questions my motivation for such behavior, I will be proud to blame it on Tom.
Beau, thank you so much for writing this. I have been so busy dealing with my own grief and sense of loss that I have failed to see the impact Tom had on the other people in his life. Reading something like this helps validate the love and admiration I have for my Pop.
ReplyDeleteTom was such a wonderful man, father, mentor and friend and had an impact on so many lives! Your recollection of him is a beautiful tribute! Thank you for sharing your memories, he is truly missed!
ReplyDeleteI wonder, as I read this, how many of Tim and Trey's friends were affected, as you and I were, by the force that is Tom. It occurs to me that so many of my/our friends are exceptional fathers and I'm certain that Tom's example greatly influenced that outcome.
ReplyDeleteWell said, my friend!
Beau – I am extremely touched by this gesture. The past 6 months have been difficult. However, it has been very comforting to learn of the impact Tom had on so many people. As you know, he was larger than life in so many ways. But, your perception of him as a father couldn’t have been more accurate. Trey and I valued every minute spent with him immensely. I look back and find that what I cherish most is that for 37 years not a day went by that in some way I was being taught a lesson about life. Whether it was work, play, marriage or personal growth; he always had a master plan to make us better men. It is my goal to live up to his standard for the rest of my life. It is a lofty goal, but Pop wouldn’t have it any other way. I appreciate you for taking the time to share your thoughts.
ReplyDeleteWhat, no grammar check for comments? Obviously I mean't: "not a day went by that in some way I wasn't being taught a lesson about life." Thank you again...
ReplyDeleteVery accurate depiction of Tom. He was a great man and raised two great boys. I remember trying to play wheel of fortune against him from the TV. I swear he was cheating cause he never lost! He could handle any "situation" Trey and I got into with out yelling. Just a stern voice that got our attention. Definitly mine. The time he took me with him and Trey to Karsten to play golf, i think we were 20. I played brutal. Ran out of balls. Afterwards i tried to offer to pay or something stupid like that and he said if i every see your wallet when your with me.... I remember that and follow that with my kids good friends. Little things like that go along way in a persons life. Miss him like he was my dad!
ReplyDeleteBob