Mourning man thanks community

Let me begin by saying that I'm absolutely convinced that you do not want anyone to "thank you" simply for caring about a very worthwhile man while he was a part of your life. Apparently, what Tom did (or didn't do), all too often a magnified part of one's measure, made little difference whether or not you accepted him for who he was, not what he did. He was who he was (thankfully) and you, unquestionably, were willing to accept that sharing with him your individual kinds of loving lives.

So why this letter? Just this: I'll call Tom "Steve" occasionally because that's how I addressed him all of our lives together. (I delude myself into thinking he liked to be called Tom as a tribute to me. Right or wrong, I prefer that explanation.).

Without being anyone other than who he was and who you are, Tom had a rich life in beautiful Orem, Utah. He laughed and spread that take-life-as-it-comes attitude wherever he went. I'd bet my entire fortune (got change for a quarter?) that he never asked you to love him -- you just did.

Now, what did we get out of it?

From my perspective, a view from his father who adored him more than anyone in life and who's premature loss is unimaginably painful, your love, caring and generosity to Tom while he was with us gave me a perspective that strengthened my belief that he had a rich life because of each and every one of you who unselfishly cared for and accepted him. Tom was a joy, separate from most of those we know who are not "joys."

What distinguished Tom, aside from his deep voice and infectious laugh, was he usually made us feel good about ourselves -- and him. (For all we know, he might've been an Angel in Wayward's clothing.) Although he probably didn't set out to, Tom (Steve) taught us a lesson (including his well-intentioned father):

"You don't have to be a millionaire to be the best among all of God's children!"

Tom (Steve) reaffirmed to me something I already knew: I couldn't have had a better son, friend or loved one in my blessed life. The unselfish love, caring and understanding of him by each of you reaffirmed that.

OK, now I will thank you, not for doing what just came naturally to you, but for the comfort you added to Tom's and my life while we walked among you, albeit my fortunate hike was a brief but indelible one.

Today, I walk a fine line. On the one side, I'm consoled by the idea that Tom (Steve) is now safe and in a better place. Conversely, behind my comedic mask I used to call my face, there is a sad, gnawing pain just below the surface I'm not sure I'll ever get over. You see, I no longer can talk with him directly about the music we loved; the mountain lion in the canyon he jived me about; his many friends whom I didn't know (but do now!); or his ceaseless curiosity about Orem, the mountains, rivers, lake, the Big Sky he'd often mention in letters; and the "little boy" holiday gifts I used to send him. Because he always was my little boy!

Because customary obstacles prevent me from telling you personally, I chose this way to thank you, the exceptionally wonderful people of Orem who befriended Tom, for helping me find the strength through your love and friendship to cope with the agonizing departure of my beloved son and your friend, Thomas (Tom) Stephen (Steve) Bowers.

I'll never forget any of you.

Possibly, I may even come up to place a flower on Tom's resting place at the base of Orem's enchanting mountains. Hopefully, we'll meet again.

I love each of you with all my heart.

• Tom Bowers

Tequesta, Florida