Lessons my father taught me
Tom shared a lot of wisdom with me over the 35 years we had together. Sometimes it was through his words, other times through his actions; but most memorably, it was through the lyrics of the Grateful Dead. No matter where I found myself in life, there always seemed to be a song from Jerry and the band that made sense of it all.
Here are a few of those lessons, set to the soundtrack he loved most.
- Merrill
A lovely view of heaven / But I’d rather be with you
[ Standing on the Moon ]
I was three, maybe four, when I discovered my dad’s real name wasn’t actually Dad. It was Tom. I was shocked, but quickly decided I’d be very grown-up and start calling him by his first name.
That lasted about two hours.
He sat me down and said, "You are the only person in the world who gets to call me Dad. That’s what you will call me."
In the moment, I thought I was being clever. Looking back, it was the first of many times he showed me that being thoughtful matters more than sounding smart.
Every silver lining's got a touch of grey
[ Touch of Grey ]
Tom had a soft spot for mid-90s rom-coms. You’ve Got Mail, Sleepless in Seattle, When Harry Met Sally — he loved them all. But nothing topped his favorite: As Good As It Gets.
After a long Sunday of yard work, you could find him stretched out on the couch, tears streaming down his face as he watched Meg Ryan or Helen Hunt find love.
Tom wore his heart on his sleeve and was never too proud to get a little misty-eyed. Movies, music (especially Eric Clapton’s later catalogue), cuddling with the dog, or catching a particularly beautiful sunset — if it moved him, he let it show.
Let the words be yours / I’m done with mine
[ Cassidy ]
Tom was a listener.
I could probably fill a book with all the quotes and one-liners he shared over the years about the art of knowing when to shut up.
He never pretended to have all the answers. But he always offered his ear, and almost always, that was enough.
What do you want me to do / To do for you to see you through?
[ Box of Rain ]
I was 17 when Tom took me to my first bar. We were in the Pacific Northwest looking at colleges when he heard live music drifting down the street after dinner. True to form, he had to check it out.
When the bouncer asked for my ID, Tom waved him off, pulled me inside, and bought me a beer. We soon realized we’d stumbled into a benefit for the Surfrider Foundation. Within minutes, Tom decided this was his new favorite nonprofit and proceeded to buy all the raffle tickets. There were ten prizes, and we won every single one.
That was Tom. He believed there was always someone who needed your time or money more than you did.
Whether it was becoming an annual donor to a one-room history museum at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere Oregon, sponsoring the local radio station’s 24-hour Grateful Dead marathon every Thanksgiving, or attending the Silver Creek Alternative School graduation each year, even when he didn’t know anyone — Tom tried to leave the world a little better than how he found it.
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
[ Eyes of the World ]
For Tom, being outside wasn’t optional; it was essential. He woke up each day with the mission of doing one thing that made him physically tired. Skiing, biking, hiking, windsurfing, walking the dog — he found joy in all of it.
It stemmed from his steadfast belief that the world would be a kinder, better place if everyone just spent 30 minutes outside every day. Nature grounded him, delighted him, and, in true Tom fashion, even inspired him to pay real money for an iPhone app to identify rocks.
What a long, strange trip it’s been
[ Truckin' ]
Tom loved a detour. I swear he knew every back road in the Mountain West, and he’d insist his side routes were just as quick as the main road — maybe ten minutes longer, at most.
Of course, they were never just ten minutes longer.
I’d protest from the back seat, baffled at why anyone would choose the long way. But Tom saw it differently: sometimes a change of scenery is worth more than efficiency.
But I say that the women today / Are smarter than the men in every way
[ Man Smart, Woman Smarter ]
Full disclosure: this was actually my favorite Dead song when I was five. Tom would put it on, and I’d prance around the living room, belting out my girl-power anthem.
That playful dynamic never really left us. We saw eye to eye on a lot, but we were both stubborn people who liked things done a certain way — which made for some lively disagreements.
Most of the time, he was right. But when he wasn’t, he’d pause, look me in the eye, and say, "I stand corrected."
It might not seem like much, but those words stuck with me. He showed humility, and that admitting you’re wrong doesn’t make you smaller. It makes room for someone else.
Once in a while, you get shown the light / In the strangest of places if you look at it right
[ Scarlet Begonias ]
I think this might have been his favorite.
Seven years ago, Tom put the cork in the bottle. No small feat, especially for someone who started sneaking into bars at 14 with his dad’s hunting license, and later founded a gentlemen’s drinking club at his Catholic high school.
But he did it. At the ripe age of 71, he showed us all that you’re never too old to change.
Overcoming his relationship with alcohol was a huge hurdle, and I was so proud of him for getting sober. Well… California sober. Or maybe in his neck of the woods, Ontario sober. If you know, you know.
One way or another / This darkness has got to give
[ New Speedway Boogie ]
I’ll end with my favorite piece of advice from my dad, and the one he gave me most often: it’s all temporary.
When life was hard, these were the words that kept me grounded. But he was just as quick to remind me that it applied to the good times too.
Tom seemed to understand something many of us spend a lifetime learning: how fleeting life is. I wish I had more years with him. But he made the most of the time he was given, and I’m so grateful he shared so much of it with me.
