Reset

Arthur L. Tomkinson

A co-worker, my foreman actually, was recently diagnosed with cancer of the bladder. For the passed couple of months, he'd limped around, complaining that it had felt like someone had kicked him in the balls. In a short period of time, he'd lost 35lbs, gone from being one of the loudest, most energetic people to the quietest. Last night he died, at the hospital in the town he was born in.
When I first got here seven months ago, Art was the kind of person that you thought any minute was going to bite you. He ran around the building, barking at people that walked through here, and constantly prodded people to improve the work they were doing. It wasn't that he was mean, or liked to piss people off, he saw logical ways to get things done, he took pride in his work and the work of the people under him. In that respect, Art and I were a lot alike.
I didn't know Art as long as most people around here, but I connected with him; we were a lot alike, and I looked up to him.
I had a bottle of contraband wine brought up yesterday that I was saving for the equinox, but when we got word last night that Art's liver had failed, and that he was getting worse, a friend and I opened the bottle and drank to Art. I walked back to my room, asked the goddess to help Art with his pain and to protect his family. I think my request was answered.
I hope Art found whatever he was looking for in the afterlife, and that his journey continues to inspire people. I'll miss you, buddy.

posted by September @ 8:18 AM