Tim Sly

Theme Thursday: Friend.

This is a re-post from earlier this month.



My friend Tim Sly died Friday. Of cancer.



I was the building manager at a newspaper. A corporate visit, a big whoop-de-doo, scheduled a few months out generated a rush to gussy up our old building. I hired Tim to do the construction work. That’s how we met.

He did a fine job on our project. When the assistant building manager position opened up he applied and I happily hired him, I think that was 1995. He’d just finished a huge building project for the V.A. in Vancouver and wanted to work in town for a change. He’d been self-employed forever – paid vacation, holidays, and sick leave were a delightful novelty. Tim joked this newspaper job was his retirement. He always had my back in the guerilla warfare environment of a big corporate newspaper.




Tim was 6’8” tall. I always felt like a delicate flower walking next to him – not common at my 5’8’’. His wife, Angie, is maybe 5’. I’d see them walking downtown, his hand on her shoulder. It was cute.

We became friends as well as colleagues. Tim had a great sense of humor and was always good for a laugh. He learned PhotoShop and for awhile I’d find pictures of me taped to my office door, my face pasted on unlikely bodies. He was just a big kid – he pulled practical jokes like shrink-wrapping cars on their owner’s birthdays.


Tim was a foodie, into gourmet cooking, and willing to spend great chunks of time making the perfect sauce. I certainly benefited, loved those dinner invitations. The man collected cooking gadgets. He loved all manner of gadgets to be precise. We had that in common as well. We both enjoyed excellent coffee and made the daily trek for a good cup.

I moved across the state in 2001 and missed that daily contact with Tim. The internet played a huge role in our maintaining contact. And a previously unknown talent emerged: He wrote wonderful stories, vignettes of his life. He wrote one about witnessing the birth of his first grandchild that was so moving it brought tears to my eyes. He sent a copy of his wedding toast to his son, profound and also moving. He sent jokes and photos. He sent a collage of his deep-fried turkey event (there’s that love of gadgets again.)




He was my role model that a good and happy marriage is possible. He and Angie renewed their vows shortly before he died - see, what a romantic.

He always brought a smile to my face when I saw him or got an email from him. I knew he’d impart some good cheer or some smartass comment guaranteed to bring a laugh.

A fine man indeed.

Rest in peace my dear friend.

Comments

injaynesworld said…
What a lovely tribute to your friend. He sounds like someone I would have liked to have known.
Anonymous said…
Thank you for this.
His son, Jacob
Brian Miller said…
a great tribute to a friend...cancer has visited our family too often...hope you have a happy theme thursday....
Wings1295 said…
Nice post for your friend. Sorry for your loss.
Kate Hanley said…
Beautiful post about your friend, I felt I got to know him a bit through this.
Alan Burnett said…
A fine tribute. Just as you were lucky to have a friend like him, he was lucky to have a friend who could pen such a beautiful tribute. That's what friends are for.
Nice tribute for a friend. -Jayne
Ronda Laveen said…
What a timely Theme Thursday for you. There are no coincidences. Lovely tribute for your friend. He sounds like a lovely spirit.
Jasmine said…
A loving tribute.
The Silver Fox said…
You described him so well, I feel like I knew him... and wish I had. So sorry for your loss, but since he'll always be within you and others... he's not really gone at all.
Baino said…
Ahh that's so sad. Losing friends is difficult but remembering them is so important. Don't be afraid of keeping him in living memory. My lovely friend Paul died six years ago. His wife and I are now the "Merry Widows" but I think about him all the time and keep him alive in our hearts.
Janice said…
I wrote about losing a friend through a move to another state, which pales in comparison to your post about Tim; but, having also lost friends to cancer, I do believe they are never truly lost to us because we remember and talk about what it was like when they were here. What a beautiful testimony to the power of friendship.
PS I got a laugh out of your Bozo comment in reponse to the pic I posted a few days ago on my blog.

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