Tom Vye
This memory of Tom was originally the third chapter of "My Park Tales", written by his widow, Beverley Alexander-Vye, now of St Mary's, Georgia.
It is reproduced by permission of Our Roots: GPK and Fun Stuff and Bev.
______________________________________________________________
My Husband, Tom Vye
Life is good.
When I met Tom, a New Brunswicker, I was 15.
My Dad didn’t know what to think of him saying,” All I ever see that fellow in is jeans.”
Tom and I dated for almost three and a half years before we got married. We were engaged when I was eighteen and Tom was twenty. After we married, Tom was treated like another son by my father. Dad taught Tom how to do plumbing, electrical work, roofing and many other building tips. They became the best of friends till the day Dad passed away.
When we married, (I was 19), we first lived in the old church for a year, then an apartment on the corner of Greenfield and Devonshire for another year, After that we rented a little house on Greenfield for two years, then moved into a duplex on Vivian for four more years,
Finally, we bought our own home at 328 Empire across from St. Paul's Church, between the homes of Diane Weldrick and Noreen Barfoot/Toner. Our home was 27 years old when we bought it in 1973, (after its owner Emily MacNeil died). We were told that the house had been built especially for the MacNeil's. Emily had lived in it alone for 15 years after her husband had passed away.
Tom and I worked on our home from the day we bought it until the day we sold it.
Originally, the second floor had been just one big room. Tom and Dad converted it into four bedrooms. Downstairs we made the bedroom into a family room with a patio door leading out to a deck. Later we added onto the kitchen, making it 19x22. When you buy an older home, one is never finished. It keeps you broke and out of trouble. I have lots of sad and wonderful memories in that home.
Tom was a country boy. He was not a golfer or a swinger; just a guy who loved living in Greenfield Park, working on his home and yard, using his chain saw, fishing, playing pool, cards, and watching all sports. He knew all the players’ names and their moves.
After leaving Greenfield Park, he devoted this same love and time to Campbellford and Georgia, and his heart to Arizona.
Tom was a real joker with our daughter Darla and six other children living with us under our foster care. He would make up funny stories or play tricks on them. When he was 17, he had one finger cut off just above the second knuckle. Tom would show this finger to the children and say, “Now listen: you must never pick your nose, because see what happened to my finger.” There would be dead silence. The children would bring their friends home to see Tom’s finger, telling them, “That’s what happens if you pick your nose: it rots off. Their friends would stand there with their eyes and mouths wide open.
I don’t know why, but Tom would always give every kid that lived with us a cute nick name, and would call them by those names only. They all just loved it.
When Darla had a few operations on her foot at the age of two, then again at six, he was the one that took care of her foot. Tom would have been an excellent male nurse. When anyone was ill he would always be there to help.
When my 86 year old grandmother came to live with us for six months before she passed away, Tom was always making her laugh. He would put on a blonde wig and sit down with her, pretending to be a visitor. She would laugh and say, “Tom I know that’s you!” One day Tom hung a bird cage in her room and put a fake canary in it. She had always had canaries. All day I watched her looking at the cage saying nothing. When Tom came home from work she said, “Tom that crazy bird you gave me has been hanging upside down all day. I think it’s sick or dead.” Then she gave a big laugh - he had not fooled her.
Tom was the same with my mother when she came to live with us. He was always playing little tricks on her. Tom would say, “Mom, I’m the big chef and you have to do what I say.” She would laugh at him and say, “Beverley is the boss!”
One day Tom said he was drinking too much and said, “Today is the day I’m going to stop drinking.” From the age of 39 to the day he passed away at 61 he never took another drink of alcohol. Again, in the early eighties, he said that if the government puts the price of cigarettes up he would quit smoking too. The next day cigarettes went up five cents a pack. From that day on he never smoked again.
Tom took great pride in his yard. He would rake leaves for hours and cut the grass with loving care. Our neighbor would laugh, saying, “Tom, if you are not raking leaves, you’re blowing them. You’re making me look bad, plus you are driving me nuts.” After Tom passed away, I worked on the lawn saying to myself, “Tom I hope you approve of the way I am cutting your grass.”
Tom worked at Pratt & Whitney for 35 years. Tom was a strong Union member, so during the 22 month strike in 1974, he elected to stay home the first nine months. By then he was seeing things he did not want to be a part of, so he made the decision to return to work. When he went through the picket line we had many threats. Then we had a night of horror. Sugar was put in our car’s gas tank, bricks were thrown through all the downstairs windows, and a bottle bomb was put into a rented car in our driveway. (Our own car was being protected at the police station.)
After he retired, we moved to Campbellford, Ontario, living in a cottage that Tom built. There, we had a wonderful couple as our neighbors, Brian a Scot and Ria, a Dutch girl. The four of us did a lot of fun stuff together. In his fifties, Brian had a stroke. Tom would help him and check every day to see if he was okay. After Tom passed away, Brian felt the loss deeply. Ria was there to help me, and still is.
Tom lived a rocky life at times due to his childhood, and fought many demons. He was a gentle caring man and loved life. Now that he is gone, I feel we were blessed that we shared a happy retirement life in Campbellford for more than ten years, taking the time to do many things together: building a cottage in the woods, canoeing, enjoying the special events in town, the wonderful times we had together traveling down south, meeting new people, making new plans, and being there for Mom. He would always encourage me if I was going to do something new.
I can imagine what my poor husband had to live through, because he never knew what I was going to do, say, or plan next.
The only thing he would say to me, (with a smile), was: ”See all those bears, (referring to my collection of hundreds of Teddy Bears),: if you go before me, I’m going to call for a big dump truck, throw all those bears in it, and drive them all to the dump.” Then he would laugh.
Like my own Dad did for us at home on Sundays, Tom would bring us all tea in bed. Keeping up with that tradition, Tom would say, “See how lucky you are!”
He was always being thoughtful. He made all of my decorative wood bears for outside and would always make sure my car was running well. When I was at my wit’s end about something he would listen, then stand and hold me. These little things I miss dearly.
After Darla had left and moved south, Tom would often say, “I wish Darla would bring the grandchildren up north and stay with us for a few weeks in the summer.”
In 1999, Darla was taking the summer off work. She called to say she and the three grandchildren would be coming to stay for the month of July. Tom was thrilled. When they came we had a wonderful time. My Mom was ninety in June but we waited for Darla to come home to have a party for her. My sister, all her children, and many of my friends came to our cottage in Campbellford with trailers and tents. It was like a family reunion. Tom was not feeling well and losing weight, but was putting on a good face. They went back to Georgia the first week in August. Tom passed away September 8th. Darla flew back to help me with Tom because he wanted to die at home with his family. He got his wish.
At Tom’s Memorial Service his good friend and fellow New Brunswicker said so many beautiful things about Tom, but he summed up Tom and his life perfectly in his closing remark by simply saying, “Tom, you’ve done good.”
I just want to share one last thought with you. Enjoy every day you have together, for when one loses one's soulmate, it is a terrible thing to happen. It takes many years of healing, if one ever heals.
But life is still good,
BA-V
***********************************
Through the Years With Tom
***********************************
"How about this picture - it was in the St.Hubert paper years ago! I wish I still looked like this. Ha-ha. We were engaged when I was eighteen, Tom was, 20 we got married a year later. It looks like we were on a cliff but we were only on a large clump of tree stumps."
"Here's our wedding invitation and a picture taken of us on June 7th, 1958."
"Tom and I at the Centennial Dance at the new Town Hall in Greenfield Park. I made the costumes with the Centennial plaid... couldn't believe I got Tom to wear his costume. My Mom, Dad, sister Shirley, Carl, my brother Ross and Diane Weldrick were all together that
night. "
"Here's our home at 328 Empire, Greenfield Park"
"Here's Mr. & Mrs. Thomas Vye taken in about 1995, enjoying our retirement years together."
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
It is reproduced by permission of Our Roots: GPK and Fun Stuff and Bev.
______________________________________________________________
My Husband, Tom Vye
Life is good.
When I met Tom, a New Brunswicker, I was 15.
My Dad didn’t know what to think of him saying,” All I ever see that fellow in is jeans.”
Tom and I dated for almost three and a half years before we got married. We were engaged when I was eighteen and Tom was twenty. After we married, Tom was treated like another son by my father. Dad taught Tom how to do plumbing, electrical work, roofing and many other building tips. They became the best of friends till the day Dad passed away.
When we married, (I was 19), we first lived in the old church for a year, then an apartment on the corner of Greenfield and Devonshire for another year, After that we rented a little house on Greenfield for two years, then moved into a duplex on Vivian for four more years,
Finally, we bought our own home at 328 Empire across from St. Paul's Church, between the homes of Diane Weldrick and Noreen Barfoot/Toner. Our home was 27 years old when we bought it in 1973, (after its owner Emily MacNeil died). We were told that the house had been built especially for the MacNeil's. Emily had lived in it alone for 15 years after her husband had passed away.
Tom and I worked on our home from the day we bought it until the day we sold it.
Originally, the second floor had been just one big room. Tom and Dad converted it into four bedrooms. Downstairs we made the bedroom into a family room with a patio door leading out to a deck. Later we added onto the kitchen, making it 19x22. When you buy an older home, one is never finished. It keeps you broke and out of trouble. I have lots of sad and wonderful memories in that home.
Tom was a country boy. He was not a golfer or a swinger; just a guy who loved living in Greenfield Park, working on his home and yard, using his chain saw, fishing, playing pool, cards, and watching all sports. He knew all the players’ names and their moves.
After leaving Greenfield Park, he devoted this same love and time to Campbellford and Georgia, and his heart to Arizona.
Tom was a real joker with our daughter Darla and six other children living with us under our foster care. He would make up funny stories or play tricks on them. When he was 17, he had one finger cut off just above the second knuckle. Tom would show this finger to the children and say, “Now listen: you must never pick your nose, because see what happened to my finger.” There would be dead silence. The children would bring their friends home to see Tom’s finger, telling them, “That’s what happens if you pick your nose: it rots off. Their friends would stand there with their eyes and mouths wide open.
I don’t know why, but Tom would always give every kid that lived with us a cute nick name, and would call them by those names only. They all just loved it.
When Darla had a few operations on her foot at the age of two, then again at six, he was the one that took care of her foot. Tom would have been an excellent male nurse. When anyone was ill he would always be there to help.
When my 86 year old grandmother came to live with us for six months before she passed away, Tom was always making her laugh. He would put on a blonde wig and sit down with her, pretending to be a visitor. She would laugh and say, “Tom I know that’s you!” One day Tom hung a bird cage in her room and put a fake canary in it. She had always had canaries. All day I watched her looking at the cage saying nothing. When Tom came home from work she said, “Tom that crazy bird you gave me has been hanging upside down all day. I think it’s sick or dead.” Then she gave a big laugh - he had not fooled her.
Tom was the same with my mother when she came to live with us. He was always playing little tricks on her. Tom would say, “Mom, I’m the big chef and you have to do what I say.” She would laugh at him and say, “Beverley is the boss!”
One day Tom said he was drinking too much and said, “Today is the day I’m going to stop drinking.” From the age of 39 to the day he passed away at 61 he never took another drink of alcohol. Again, in the early eighties, he said that if the government puts the price of cigarettes up he would quit smoking too. The next day cigarettes went up five cents a pack. From that day on he never smoked again.
Tom took great pride in his yard. He would rake leaves for hours and cut the grass with loving care. Our neighbor would laugh, saying, “Tom, if you are not raking leaves, you’re blowing them. You’re making me look bad, plus you are driving me nuts.” After Tom passed away, I worked on the lawn saying to myself, “Tom I hope you approve of the way I am cutting your grass.”
Tom worked at Pratt & Whitney for 35 years. Tom was a strong Union member, so during the 22 month strike in 1974, he elected to stay home the first nine months. By then he was seeing things he did not want to be a part of, so he made the decision to return to work. When he went through the picket line we had many threats. Then we had a night of horror. Sugar was put in our car’s gas tank, bricks were thrown through all the downstairs windows, and a bottle bomb was put into a rented car in our driveway. (Our own car was being protected at the police station.)
After he retired, we moved to Campbellford, Ontario, living in a cottage that Tom built. There, we had a wonderful couple as our neighbors, Brian a Scot and Ria, a Dutch girl. The four of us did a lot of fun stuff together. In his fifties, Brian had a stroke. Tom would help him and check every day to see if he was okay. After Tom passed away, Brian felt the loss deeply. Ria was there to help me, and still is.
Tom lived a rocky life at times due to his childhood, and fought many demons. He was a gentle caring man and loved life. Now that he is gone, I feel we were blessed that we shared a happy retirement life in Campbellford for more than ten years, taking the time to do many things together: building a cottage in the woods, canoeing, enjoying the special events in town, the wonderful times we had together traveling down south, meeting new people, making new plans, and being there for Mom. He would always encourage me if I was going to do something new.
I can imagine what my poor husband had to live through, because he never knew what I was going to do, say, or plan next.
The only thing he would say to me, (with a smile), was: ”See all those bears, (referring to my collection of hundreds of Teddy Bears),: if you go before me, I’m going to call for a big dump truck, throw all those bears in it, and drive them all to the dump.” Then he would laugh.
Like my own Dad did for us at home on Sundays, Tom would bring us all tea in bed. Keeping up with that tradition, Tom would say, “See how lucky you are!”
He was always being thoughtful. He made all of my decorative wood bears for outside and would always make sure my car was running well. When I was at my wit’s end about something he would listen, then stand and hold me. These little things I miss dearly.
After Darla had left and moved south, Tom would often say, “I wish Darla would bring the grandchildren up north and stay with us for a few weeks in the summer.”
In 1999, Darla was taking the summer off work. She called to say she and the three grandchildren would be coming to stay for the month of July. Tom was thrilled. When they came we had a wonderful time. My Mom was ninety in June but we waited for Darla to come home to have a party for her. My sister, all her children, and many of my friends came to our cottage in Campbellford with trailers and tents. It was like a family reunion. Tom was not feeling well and losing weight, but was putting on a good face. They went back to Georgia the first week in August. Tom passed away September 8th. Darla flew back to help me with Tom because he wanted to die at home with his family. He got his wish.
At Tom’s Memorial Service his good friend and fellow New Brunswicker said so many beautiful things about Tom, but he summed up Tom and his life perfectly in his closing remark by simply saying, “Tom, you’ve done good.”
I just want to share one last thought with you. Enjoy every day you have together, for when one loses one's soulmate, it is a terrible thing to happen. It takes many years of healing, if one ever heals.
But life is still good,
BA-V
***********************************
Through the Years With Tom
***********************************
"How about this picture - it was in the St.Hubert paper years ago! I wish I still looked like this. Ha-ha. We were engaged when I was eighteen, Tom was, 20 we got married a year later. It looks like we were on a cliff but we were only on a large clump of tree stumps."
"Here's our wedding invitation and a picture taken of us on June 7th, 1958."
"Tom and I at the Centennial Dance at the new Town Hall in Greenfield Park. I made the costumes with the Centennial plaid... couldn't believe I got Tom to wear his costume. My Mom, Dad, sister Shirley, Carl, my brother Ross and Diane Weldrick were all together that
night. "
"Here's our home at 328 Empire, Greenfield Park"
"Here's Mr. & Mrs. Thomas Vye taken in about 1995, enjoying our retirement years together."
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
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