Obituaries don’t do justice, RIP Uncle Tom

(Warning: This is not humorous – skip it and read another one if you’re looking for funny stuff)  Today my uncle Tom Coen is being buried.  I read his obituary and realized how woefully short those are, even if necessarily so.  My uncle was more than a couple paragraphs, he was a great man.  How do you put into words all the buildings standing built by his hands?  The tremendous sense of humor and generosity he had?  His unbelievable work ethic – this man woke up before the sun and didn’t return until nine pm or later – unmatched by any two people?

He used to take me and my sister on Harley rides and he laughed when I called my big wheel a “Hardly” Davidson by accident, even though in retrospect, it was hardly a Harley other than the sticker on the plastic seat.  He was always carrying a stick of Juicy Fruit and had Mountain Dew on command, which made him pretty cool by my five year old standards.  He got screwed over on pay once when I was working for him at the Muskingum Fairgrounds putting up facia and soffit, but he made sure I got paid for my work, even though my useless construction skills probably were worth a tenth of what he gave me.  I also saw him walking across a couple 2 x 4’s carrying buckets of cement when me and my college buddies tried to help build my parents’ house.  My buddy Waite mentioned my uncle was a real man, while us frat pussies tried to lug one bucket without hurting ourselves.  Plus his voice was deeper than mine, so basically he had the lowest voice in the history of earth.  He also knew more bar jokes than anyone I’ve ever met, which is saying a lot…

He also served his country as a helicopter mechanic in Vietnam, which meant he had to disable the birds before the VC could get salvagable parts to use against Americans.  Not surprisingly, like a lot of other Vietnam vets, he got prostate cancer (2.5 times more than non-vets).  I don’t know if the VA’s slow pace added to his pain or his death, but it probably didn’t help.  Yet another reason to hate hippies, I might add, but that’s for another blog.  My uncle worked hard and a lot of scumbags tried to take advantage.  To the vermin twat that stole his identity and caused him problems innumerable, there is justice – in this world or the next.  You and the others are not worth mentioning.  Rest in Peace, Thomas Wayne Coen.  You were a good man, a hard worker, and a true patriot.  Thanks for being a part of my life and you will be missed more than I can articulate in a blog.