This is Shane Bitney Crone's speech that was given at Tom Bridegroom's Los Angeles memorial service on June 25, 2011.
Six years ago, I almost didn’t meet the love of my life.
My friend Holly invited me to join her and some of her friends... for a bowling night, promising that there would be a cute guy present to whom she was dying to introduce me. She hyped him up as someone who would be really great for me to meet--apparently he had been doing well in the entertainment industry and had just been named Teen People’s “Hottie of the Month.” I was incredibly reluctant about going--I had never been on a date, nor kissed a guy, and had only kissed a few girls during prepubescent renditions of “spin the bottle” (which still grosses me out). But eventually, after much convincing, I caved and decided to go.
On that ultimately serendipitous night, I initially found Tom to be irritatingly cocky (and I should mention that his sexual orientation remained somewhat ambiguous). I couldn’t help but be attracted to his confidence, and I admitted to Holly the next day that I guess I would be open to seeing him again.
Eventually I did see him again, this time at our friend Lizzie’s apartment for an American Idol viewing party. Two very important events occurred that evening:
One: the mystery of Tom’s sexuality was unequivocally solved…we were at an American Idol viewing party…; and Two: we exchanged phone numbers.
After that night, we hung out with increasing frequency and we found ourselves falling in love quite quickly. Every date was like a little blessing, and we spent every night together--if not in person, then over the phone or through instant messenger until we would fall asleep.
Very little time passed before I moved in with Tom. We made that two bedroom apartment our first home, but were careful to maintain the appearance that we cohabited as strictly roommates. At that juncture, neither Tom nor myself had come out to our families. Having both been raised in conservative, small communities, Tom and I feared our relatives’ reactions and thus broadcasted our relationship as purely platonic. That is, until we realized that we wanted to spend our lives together.
I am so thankful for having Tom in my life, for more reasons than I could ever bother to list, but more than anything I am grateful because our love and our strength as a couple allowed us to face our greatest fears. I was lucky enough to have Tom by my side when I told my mom I was gay. She actually got the words out before I could even finish my sentence, and has been unbelievably supportive of both of us ever since. My entire family loved and respected Tom; even my 90 year old great grandmother welcomed Tom into the family with open arms and thought he was a great guy, and my nieces always called him “Uncle Tom.” I only wish Tom had had as positive of an experience--he was met with much hostility when he came out to his parents in Indiana, and as a result I never had the opportunity to meet much of his family.
Tom and I both ventured to Los Angeles to pursue careers in the entertainment industry. When I met him, he had already found success as a host, model, and actor. We were undoubtedly each other’s biggest supporters, and collaborated on nearly every project with which we became involved. I worked with a group of people to develop a website that specialized in developing content targeted at generation Y; of course, Tom became a part of that, and eventually we created our own website that featured videos of Tom and me gallivanting around the globe. We also started a small business that promoted musicians on MySpace and YouTube and established a successful entertainment blog. We were constantly inventing new projects for ourselves and our friends. Tom’s tenacity and positivity were limitless and he inspired me daily to set and achieve new goals. We lived together, ate together, commuted together, and worked together, a daily routine that would leave many couples feeling completely smothered. And although our relationship was not without its imperfections (yes, believe it or not Tom and I nagged each other, fought with each other, and bothered each other from time to time), we managed to love one another more with every passing day.
Our love was transcendent; it required no words (in spite of our mutual predisposition for gab and gossip). Our relationship was full of humor, kindness, respect, and devotion. Tom was incomparably devoted, not only to me but to everyone he loved and to everything he did. He enjoyed cooking and in spite of being exhausted some days, would always prepare me incredible meals that were delicious and nutritious. He liked maintaining a healthy, cruelty-free life and became a vegan, (and inspired many others to do the same). Tom was a very patient person, and his calmness extended even to the kitchen. About a week before he died I suddenly had an urge to attempt cooking, and he guided me through every step. He beamed with pride and shared a photo of me slaving over the stove with our friends and my family. His belief in me ignited belief within myself; With him by my side, I felt like I could achieve anything. Without him now, I rely on the microwave and my heart breaks all over again every time I look into our empty kitchen.
Tom was versatile and talented, and incredibly generous with his skills. Once I asked him to record piano for a project and within just a few short hours he returned with music that included the basic accompaniment, as well as bass guitar, trumpet, and piccolo….seriously. That’s how Tom was - he couldn’t just do anything simple. It had to be amazing…something like that. He was an excellent host, and not just for MTV--he always entertained our guests and made them feel comfortable. Tom would tie my tie, hang our pictures and iron my shirts - if only because he didn't like how I did it myself. One time I mentioned painting a wall in our house and when I returned from running some errands, he had done so. When we were busy, he would love to surprise me by cleaning and do the laundry without ever being asked. He had a pure and selfless heart, but was often mischievous and silly, which allowed me to feel safe exhibiting my own goofy traits. We loved to scare the hell out of each other by doing stupid stuff like honking our car horns suddenly or by jumping out from behind walls.
The laughs we shared were always loud and plentiful, sometimes alone in our house, others in the company of close friends, and even, on occasion, in a dark movie theatre amongst strangers. One particularly hilarious night last year, we went out to see “127 Hours.” After sitting through the entire film, we finally reached the pinnacle moment when James Franco’s character cuts through his arm in order to escape from being trapped between two giant boulder rocks. Tom grabbed me desperately, assuring me he was going to faint. Captivated by the movie, I dismissed his theatrics…we all know how NOT dramatic Tom could be, but within a matter of seconds he grabbed me again, looked me in the eyes and said “Hhheelllp” and promptly passed out. Yes...he actually fainted in a public cinema. More embarrassed than concerned at first, I slapped him until he came to and we left the theatre (missing the film’s finale, by the way). We laughed about that for months and I loved making fun of him for that.
We never stopped sharing stories from our past, but more importantly we never stopped living in the moment and planning our future. We were a great team: Tom would have an amazing idea and I would implement the plan, and together we saw places and did things that we both had dreamed together of doing. Our adventures included trips to Hawaii, San Francisco, Mexico, and locations on three other continents. Tom and I relished exploring new places together, creating priceless memories every step of the way.
Before I continue, I want to stress something: Tom was an avid supporter of social media and believed that information should be truthful and easily accessible, which is why it’s so painful that his immediate family had his Facebook page deleted. He updated his Twitter and Facebook accounts regularly, and shared his life openly and honestly with those he loved. To honor these convictions, I would like to speak candidly about how he died and the events that followed.
A month and a half ago, I lost the love of my life.
The morning of May 7th began no more unusually than any other day. We had the crazy notion that we should begin a new workout regime, which only lasted about five minutes before Tom, always the klutz, inevitably injured himself rolling his ankle during the warm up. We agreed to spend the rest of the day apart—a rare occurrence, but one that was necessary from time to time. Tom left to hangout with our friend Alex, accidentally taking both sets of keys with him (thus leaving me stranded). They went to her house to do an impromptu photo shoot on her roof that evening. Tom and I texted throughout the entire day. We had a conversation saying we loved each other, and I'm grateful that I had and still have those messages to give me some comfort. While texting, I reminded him to be careful countless times that night when he mentioned they would be taking photos on the roof. We have been on Alex’s roof a handfull of times. He laughed off my paranoia, assuring me he would be cautious. Within minutes though, I received the fateful message from Alex saying he had fallen from her four story building.
(Alex, in the midst of the pain and confusion, I find comfort in knowing you were there for Tom. Thank you for always being such an amazing friend to us both, and for being by his side till the ambulance arrived. Words will never convey how much that means to me, nor how much it breaks my heart that you had to witness such a tragedy.)
Our good neighbor Carrie drove me to the emergency room, where I learned that Tom’s condition was far worse than I feared. After a few hours the doctor informed us that Tom was gone; he said they did everything they could to save him. I hope you all can find comfort in knowing that the doctor said Tom had most likely not felt any pain from the fall.
Disbelief washed over me. The entire night felt surreal; the stuff of nightmares. I could not believe he was gone. The last time I saw Tom he had a sheet over his face. I placed my hand on his leg and kissed his chest, over his heart--the heart that just earlier that day had pulsed power and promise; the heart that bestowed upon my life purpose and meaning; the heart that cherished me and that I treasured as mine.
The next day I picked up Tom’s mother and aunt from the airport--a cruel joke, it seemed, since May 8th was Mother’s Day. From that moment on, I did all I could to appease Tom’s mom. I welcomed her to stay in our condo and drove her everywhere, while my family stayed in a motel and rented a car. I let her sleep with our dog Justin Bobby, even though I was forced to face a half-empty bed. Per his mothers request, we sifted through his belongings, his clothes...everything, and he hadn’t been gone even 3 days. I listened to her discuss his funeral, the planning of which I had no part. They wanted him buried in Indiana, in spite of the fact that Tom had no longer considered Indiana his home. And, to add insult to injury, his family expected me to pay for the costs.
I wish I could say that the days that followed are a blur, but in reality they are painfully clear. Tom’s mom and aunt left the condo to stay in a hotel near the airport, so that they would be prepared for when he was released. His mother assured me she would let me know when his body was to be flown but after dropping her off at the airport that was the last I heard from his mother. I decided to fly to Chicago (the nearest airport to Tom’s hometown) immediately so as not to miss out on any memorial services. I was informed of nothing, except that if I showed up in the town or at any of the memorial services, I would be harmed. Needless to say I was unable to attend any of the services. With the assistance of some very compassionate former schoolmates of Tom’s, however, I was able to sneak into town and see where he grew up before the viewing and funeral took place.
My name was not mentioned in the obituary or the funeral program. My existence would not have been acknowledged during the service at all had it not been for two of Tom’s very brave cousins. I was with Tom for six years; we were each other’s lives, and yet, upon his death, I was completely powerless. Not once was Tom properly honored in a way that would have made him happy, because the people responsible no longer knew who Tom truly was and were unwilling to include those who knew him best.
I tell you this not to evoke sympathy for my situation or to incite hatred towards Tom’s family. I have tried to avoid anger and spite because I know Tom would never have wanted that. I merely want to explain the circumstances. I plead with you all, gay or straight: prepare as much as possible for the unexpected. Learn your rights. Designate a power of attorney. Draw up a will. We are not invincible. Tom was young and healthy. Live each day to the fullest, with vigor and passion.
Thank you all for being here with me as I share my memories of and love for Tom. I want to conclude with a conversation between us from 2006 when I was on a plane waiting to take off to Montana. Always the romantic, Tom had saved the text and emailed it to me; I found it just a few weeks ago while I was sifting through all our old correspondence.
Tom: So I decided that you are going to have to change your name to Shane Bitney Crone Bridegroom.
Me: Hahaha that’s the longest name ever. How about Thomas Lee Crone?
Tom: So the initials would be T.L.C.
Me: It’s a sign….
Tom: You’re a sign…..that love is real. Shane you make me feel like the luckiest guy alive. I look back at all of the people throughout my life and I know that none of them have what we have. I feel like so many people around us spend an eternity searching for what we have.
Me: I agree. If you were to compare what we have to everyone else I can honestly say I’ve never actually seen or heard anyone else say they have what we have.
Tom: I love you.
Me: I love you…we should think about all of the things we want to do in our lives together. Like swimming in the ocean or going camping and sleeping under the stars.
Tom: There’s so much I want to do with you.
Me: Going on a long bike ride together and eating lunch. Going skiing in Montana.
Tom: Taking pictures together when we travel the world.
Me: Waking up to the sound of waves in Hawaii.
Tom: Watching movies in our bedroom until we fall asleep.
Me: Buying our first home together.
Tom: Being able to actually spend our first Christmas together instead of us flying back home.
Me: Getting a dog!
Tom: Adopt a kid together.
Me: Teaching them how to swim and ride a bike.
Tom: Driving them to their first day of school.
Me: All of us sitting at our table together with our dog at our feet waiting for one of us to drop food.
Tom: We are going to have an amazing life together. I pray that we will have these feelings forever.
Me: We will.
Tom: My heart belongs to you Shane Bitney Crone.
Me: Ok we’re going to take off now. I have to turn my phone off.
Tom: I love you and I miss you already.
At the beginning of our relationship, Tom and I bonded over the many similarities we had: we both grew up listening to country music, Garth Brooks is our favorite country artist, and somehow, we both agreed that “The Dance” is our favorite country song. If ever there was a person to truly emulate the lyrics of this song, it was Tom.
“The Dance”
Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I the king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance
I miss you Tom. I will love and miss you always and forever.
Six years ago, I almost didn’t meet the love of my life.
My friend Holly invited me to join her and some of her friends... for a bowling night, promising that there would be a cute guy present to whom she was dying to introduce me. She hyped him up as someone who would be really great for me to meet--apparently he had been doing well in the entertainment industry and had just been named Teen People’s “Hottie of the Month.” I was incredibly reluctant about going--I had never been on a date, nor kissed a guy, and had only kissed a few girls during prepubescent renditions of “spin the bottle” (which still grosses me out). But eventually, after much convincing, I caved and decided to go.
On that ultimately serendipitous night, I initially found Tom to be irritatingly cocky (and I should mention that his sexual orientation remained somewhat ambiguous). I couldn’t help but be attracted to his confidence, and I admitted to Holly the next day that I guess I would be open to seeing him again.
Eventually I did see him again, this time at our friend Lizzie’s apartment for an American Idol viewing party. Two very important events occurred that evening:
One: the mystery of Tom’s sexuality was unequivocally solved…we were at an American Idol viewing party…; and Two: we exchanged phone numbers.
After that night, we hung out with increasing frequency and we found ourselves falling in love quite quickly. Every date was like a little blessing, and we spent every night together--if not in person, then over the phone or through instant messenger until we would fall asleep.
Very little time passed before I moved in with Tom. We made that two bedroom apartment our first home, but were careful to maintain the appearance that we cohabited as strictly roommates. At that juncture, neither Tom nor myself had come out to our families. Having both been raised in conservative, small communities, Tom and I feared our relatives’ reactions and thus broadcasted our relationship as purely platonic. That is, until we realized that we wanted to spend our lives together.
I am so thankful for having Tom in my life, for more reasons than I could ever bother to list, but more than anything I am grateful because our love and our strength as a couple allowed us to face our greatest fears. I was lucky enough to have Tom by my side when I told my mom I was gay. She actually got the words out before I could even finish my sentence, and has been unbelievably supportive of both of us ever since. My entire family loved and respected Tom; even my 90 year old great grandmother welcomed Tom into the family with open arms and thought he was a great guy, and my nieces always called him “Uncle Tom.” I only wish Tom had had as positive of an experience--he was met with much hostility when he came out to his parents in Indiana, and as a result I never had the opportunity to meet much of his family.
Tom and I both ventured to Los Angeles to pursue careers in the entertainment industry. When I met him, he had already found success as a host, model, and actor. We were undoubtedly each other’s biggest supporters, and collaborated on nearly every project with which we became involved. I worked with a group of people to develop a website that specialized in developing content targeted at generation Y; of course, Tom became a part of that, and eventually we created our own website that featured videos of Tom and me gallivanting around the globe. We also started a small business that promoted musicians on MySpace and YouTube and established a successful entertainment blog. We were constantly inventing new projects for ourselves and our friends. Tom’s tenacity and positivity were limitless and he inspired me daily to set and achieve new goals. We lived together, ate together, commuted together, and worked together, a daily routine that would leave many couples feeling completely smothered. And although our relationship was not without its imperfections (yes, believe it or not Tom and I nagged each other, fought with each other, and bothered each other from time to time), we managed to love one another more with every passing day.
Our love was transcendent; it required no words (in spite of our mutual predisposition for gab and gossip). Our relationship was full of humor, kindness, respect, and devotion. Tom was incomparably devoted, not only to me but to everyone he loved and to everything he did. He enjoyed cooking and in spite of being exhausted some days, would always prepare me incredible meals that were delicious and nutritious. He liked maintaining a healthy, cruelty-free life and became a vegan, (and inspired many others to do the same). Tom was a very patient person, and his calmness extended even to the kitchen. About a week before he died I suddenly had an urge to attempt cooking, and he guided me through every step. He beamed with pride and shared a photo of me slaving over the stove with our friends and my family. His belief in me ignited belief within myself; With him by my side, I felt like I could achieve anything. Without him now, I rely on the microwave and my heart breaks all over again every time I look into our empty kitchen.
Tom was versatile and talented, and incredibly generous with his skills. Once I asked him to record piano for a project and within just a few short hours he returned with music that included the basic accompaniment, as well as bass guitar, trumpet, and piccolo….seriously. That’s how Tom was - he couldn’t just do anything simple. It had to be amazing…something like that. He was an excellent host, and not just for MTV--he always entertained our guests and made them feel comfortable. Tom would tie my tie, hang our pictures and iron my shirts - if only because he didn't like how I did it myself. One time I mentioned painting a wall in our house and when I returned from running some errands, he had done so. When we were busy, he would love to surprise me by cleaning and do the laundry without ever being asked. He had a pure and selfless heart, but was often mischievous and silly, which allowed me to feel safe exhibiting my own goofy traits. We loved to scare the hell out of each other by doing stupid stuff like honking our car horns suddenly or by jumping out from behind walls.
The laughs we shared were always loud and plentiful, sometimes alone in our house, others in the company of close friends, and even, on occasion, in a dark movie theatre amongst strangers. One particularly hilarious night last year, we went out to see “127 Hours.” After sitting through the entire film, we finally reached the pinnacle moment when James Franco’s character cuts through his arm in order to escape from being trapped between two giant boulder rocks. Tom grabbed me desperately, assuring me he was going to faint. Captivated by the movie, I dismissed his theatrics…we all know how NOT dramatic Tom could be, but within a matter of seconds he grabbed me again, looked me in the eyes and said “Hhheelllp” and promptly passed out. Yes...he actually fainted in a public cinema. More embarrassed than concerned at first, I slapped him until he came to and we left the theatre (missing the film’s finale, by the way). We laughed about that for months and I loved making fun of him for that.
We never stopped sharing stories from our past, but more importantly we never stopped living in the moment and planning our future. We were a great team: Tom would have an amazing idea and I would implement the plan, and together we saw places and did things that we both had dreamed together of doing. Our adventures included trips to Hawaii, San Francisco, Mexico, and locations on three other continents. Tom and I relished exploring new places together, creating priceless memories every step of the way.
Before I continue, I want to stress something: Tom was an avid supporter of social media and believed that information should be truthful and easily accessible, which is why it’s so painful that his immediate family had his Facebook page deleted. He updated his Twitter and Facebook accounts regularly, and shared his life openly and honestly with those he loved. To honor these convictions, I would like to speak candidly about how he died and the events that followed.
A month and a half ago, I lost the love of my life.
The morning of May 7th began no more unusually than any other day. We had the crazy notion that we should begin a new workout regime, which only lasted about five minutes before Tom, always the klutz, inevitably injured himself rolling his ankle during the warm up. We agreed to spend the rest of the day apart—a rare occurrence, but one that was necessary from time to time. Tom left to hangout with our friend Alex, accidentally taking both sets of keys with him (thus leaving me stranded). They went to her house to do an impromptu photo shoot on her roof that evening. Tom and I texted throughout the entire day. We had a conversation saying we loved each other, and I'm grateful that I had and still have those messages to give me some comfort. While texting, I reminded him to be careful countless times that night when he mentioned they would be taking photos on the roof. We have been on Alex’s roof a handfull of times. He laughed off my paranoia, assuring me he would be cautious. Within minutes though, I received the fateful message from Alex saying he had fallen from her four story building.
(Alex, in the midst of the pain and confusion, I find comfort in knowing you were there for Tom. Thank you for always being such an amazing friend to us both, and for being by his side till the ambulance arrived. Words will never convey how much that means to me, nor how much it breaks my heart that you had to witness such a tragedy.)
Our good neighbor Carrie drove me to the emergency room, where I learned that Tom’s condition was far worse than I feared. After a few hours the doctor informed us that Tom was gone; he said they did everything they could to save him. I hope you all can find comfort in knowing that the doctor said Tom had most likely not felt any pain from the fall.
Disbelief washed over me. The entire night felt surreal; the stuff of nightmares. I could not believe he was gone. The last time I saw Tom he had a sheet over his face. I placed my hand on his leg and kissed his chest, over his heart--the heart that just earlier that day had pulsed power and promise; the heart that bestowed upon my life purpose and meaning; the heart that cherished me and that I treasured as mine.
The next day I picked up Tom’s mother and aunt from the airport--a cruel joke, it seemed, since May 8th was Mother’s Day. From that moment on, I did all I could to appease Tom’s mom. I welcomed her to stay in our condo and drove her everywhere, while my family stayed in a motel and rented a car. I let her sleep with our dog Justin Bobby, even though I was forced to face a half-empty bed. Per his mothers request, we sifted through his belongings, his clothes...everything, and he hadn’t been gone even 3 days. I listened to her discuss his funeral, the planning of which I had no part. They wanted him buried in Indiana, in spite of the fact that Tom had no longer considered Indiana his home. And, to add insult to injury, his family expected me to pay for the costs.
I wish I could say that the days that followed are a blur, but in reality they are painfully clear. Tom’s mom and aunt left the condo to stay in a hotel near the airport, so that they would be prepared for when he was released. His mother assured me she would let me know when his body was to be flown but after dropping her off at the airport that was the last I heard from his mother. I decided to fly to Chicago (the nearest airport to Tom’s hometown) immediately so as not to miss out on any memorial services. I was informed of nothing, except that if I showed up in the town or at any of the memorial services, I would be harmed. Needless to say I was unable to attend any of the services. With the assistance of some very compassionate former schoolmates of Tom’s, however, I was able to sneak into town and see where he grew up before the viewing and funeral took place.
My name was not mentioned in the obituary or the funeral program. My existence would not have been acknowledged during the service at all had it not been for two of Tom’s very brave cousins. I was with Tom for six years; we were each other’s lives, and yet, upon his death, I was completely powerless. Not once was Tom properly honored in a way that would have made him happy, because the people responsible no longer knew who Tom truly was and were unwilling to include those who knew him best.
I tell you this not to evoke sympathy for my situation or to incite hatred towards Tom’s family. I have tried to avoid anger and spite because I know Tom would never have wanted that. I merely want to explain the circumstances. I plead with you all, gay or straight: prepare as much as possible for the unexpected. Learn your rights. Designate a power of attorney. Draw up a will. We are not invincible. Tom was young and healthy. Live each day to the fullest, with vigor and passion.
Thank you all for being here with me as I share my memories of and love for Tom. I want to conclude with a conversation between us from 2006 when I was on a plane waiting to take off to Montana. Always the romantic, Tom had saved the text and emailed it to me; I found it just a few weeks ago while I was sifting through all our old correspondence.
Tom: So I decided that you are going to have to change your name to Shane Bitney Crone Bridegroom.
Me: Hahaha that’s the longest name ever. How about Thomas Lee Crone?
Tom: So the initials would be T.L.C.
Me: It’s a sign….
Tom: You’re a sign…..that love is real. Shane you make me feel like the luckiest guy alive. I look back at all of the people throughout my life and I know that none of them have what we have. I feel like so many people around us spend an eternity searching for what we have.
Me: I agree. If you were to compare what we have to everyone else I can honestly say I’ve never actually seen or heard anyone else say they have what we have.
Tom: I love you.
Me: I love you…we should think about all of the things we want to do in our lives together. Like swimming in the ocean or going camping and sleeping under the stars.
Tom: There’s so much I want to do with you.
Me: Going on a long bike ride together and eating lunch. Going skiing in Montana.
Tom: Taking pictures together when we travel the world.
Me: Waking up to the sound of waves in Hawaii.
Tom: Watching movies in our bedroom until we fall asleep.
Me: Buying our first home together.
Tom: Being able to actually spend our first Christmas together instead of us flying back home.
Me: Getting a dog!
Tom: Adopt a kid together.
Me: Teaching them how to swim and ride a bike.
Tom: Driving them to their first day of school.
Me: All of us sitting at our table together with our dog at our feet waiting for one of us to drop food.
Tom: We are going to have an amazing life together. I pray that we will have these feelings forever.
Me: We will.
Tom: My heart belongs to you Shane Bitney Crone.
Me: Ok we’re going to take off now. I have to turn my phone off.
Tom: I love you and I miss you already.
At the beginning of our relationship, Tom and I bonded over the many similarities we had: we both grew up listening to country music, Garth Brooks is our favorite country artist, and somehow, we both agreed that “The Dance” is our favorite country song. If ever there was a person to truly emulate the lyrics of this song, it was Tom.
“The Dance”
Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I the king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance
I miss you Tom. I will love and miss you always and forever.
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