Take your parachute and jump
You can’t stay here forever
When everyone else is gone
Being all alone won’t seem that clever
Take your parachute and go
There’s gonna have to be some danger
Take your parachute and jump
You’re gonna have to take flight
If the wind don’t catch you, I will, I will
If the wind’s not there, I’m here
Coincidentally or not, the above lyrics are from the greatest hit ever produced by Irish rock band Something Happens (1990) whose lead singer was none other than Tom Dunne who went on to – and continues to – carve out a career for himself as one of the country’s most beloved DJ’s. However, one thing his legion of fans could never say was “There’s only one Tom Dunne”
Oh no. Because there’s another one. I cannot bring myself to say ‘Was’ yet, even though, on July 1st last, a light went out in the lives of those of us who were blessed beyond words to have our very own Tom Dunne enter our lives for some of us was nigh on three decades ago.
Now, in one way, temptation is to wonder just how we were fortunate to have him with us for as long as was the case because the drill sergeant up top had tried to recruit him for his platoon that often but Major Tom had somehow managed to get to Ground Control and wriggle out under the wire and back to us.
Yet, on the other hand, it is somewhat emotionally incomprehensible that a mountain did finally present itself that he wasn’t able to scale. All the more unfathomable is it when you consider the rapidity with which he left us after looking like Father Time had called on him so many times before he went up as far as the gates, had a look and turned back.
***
I knew Tom for a good while before I knew him. It’s an Irish thing. If you nod to somebody, bid them the time of day and/or talk to them for any more than two minutes at a bar counter, you know them! The thing is, it was similarity of circumstances that drew us together. That is to say, two wheelchairs parked side by side in Brady’s of Dunboyne!
Now, it wasn’t until a long time after that one became properly acquainted with Tom’s ‘package’ deal, our ‘speak’ for the entirety of what we were dealing with. But even back then I had seen Tom progress from being in the wheelchair full time, to walking with two crutches, then two sticks, onto one stick and then no props for the better part of the last decade until fate went full circle again.
But in between point A and point B, there was seven of the most wonderful years anybody could ask for.
***
Which takes us to October 1st, 2018. The day I began attending my local RehabCare Resources Centre in Dunboyne. After it took my then and desperately missed Occupational Therapist Megan McCormack 12 months to persuade me to make the trip around the corner.
To the extent that she had to accompany me over that first day. Though my apprehension lasted about 25 seconds when firstly Donie Fitzpatrick – who I’d known for about 20 years at that stage – greeted me with “Shut your mouth, put your shyness in your ar*e pocket and eat that”! He knew the ‘shyness’ reference would put muggins here at ease and give me a laugh as it was the same phrase used by Paraic Lyons to ‘persuade’ Sean Boylan to take the Meath football job in the autumn of 1982!
As for the “Eat that” reference – that was while he was pointing at the big fry he’d made himself (for himself!!) but had put half of on another plate for yours truly.
Anyway, after a while I copped the man with the glasses at the other end of the table and, after an initial period of awkward “Are you the man I used to see in Brady’s? ” stuttering, in what felt jig time, things fell into a routine whereby very quickly it became apparent the Rehab ‘crew’ – service users and staff – became a second family for me.
To the extent that, among the many photos of friends we’ve lost, even since I started over there, there’s one of Donie, Tom and Mark Nolan – with Mark the only one of the three amigos with us now – which I dubbed ‘Last Of The Summer Wine’ from the first time I saw it!
So, if we had Compo, Clegg and Foggy, then yours truly was the Wesley Pegdon of the ensemble – obsessed with tools and diesel engines and machines.
Though the mechanics of our own stories were both entertaining and healing in their right. For instance, Tom was the first person I ever met with MS (I’m not even going to attempt to spell it out) and he taught me – and the rest of us – about the good, the bad and the ugly of living with MS.
Mind you, Tom being Tom, it was very much a case of the all the first adjective, the other two wouldn’t even be entertained. Thus, though it still it feels like a mirage to be referring to him in the past tense, symbols of his ebullient positivity will eternally surround us.
From what will be forever ‘Donie And Tom’s Workshop’ to me, even though ‘progress’ – otherwise known as red tape and bullshit – has wiped all trace of it from the horizon.
To the kitchen in the centre, designed, constructed and decorated by Tom, Donie and the staff of the day, over the course of a week. Before, many years after that, I was first handedly indebted to him for his patience, perfectionism and no little skill in bringing a project to fruition that the local chapter of Trotters Independent Trading had gone full Dellboy, Rodders and Trigger on the job!
“If the wind don’t catch you I will/if the wind’s not there, I’m here”. Those lyrics again. Viewed through another lens, that’s Tom encouraging me – or anybody for that matter – to have a go at doing something we were unsure about. Up to and including using the chop saw in the workshop, but keep that under your hat!! The second half if the lyric above, I can hear him saying to me over and over “Give it a go, if or when ya make a mess of it, just say the wind did and I’ll fix it up”.
***
Let’s just say he used a word slightly more colourful than mess, but, sadly, time would prove that what Tom didn’t tell you was nearly as if not more important than what was imparted. After all, I knew he was dealing with MS, but it was only in dribs and drabs and almost by accident I heard about the heart, the kidneys, the pacemaker, the neck, and Lord knows what else was going on that we didn’t hear about.
Quite simply because he never made a big deal of the crosses he had to bear. Which, as another of our flock, Anthony Farrell, said in the aftermath of Tom’s passing, was more than his fair share – if there is such a thing. Maybe it was the army mindset that never left him, but, it was always head up, chest out, best foot forward.
Which is why, what I think was around last Christmas, when word landed that he was facing quite a spell on the sidelines, it was the first hint that the captain of our platoon may be in trouble again.
Something confirmed when the words ‘neck brace’, ‘wheelchair’ and ‘Dun Laoghire’ were added to the equation. The latter being the National Rehabilitation Hospital.
Don’t get me wrong, an absolutely wonderful place where miracles can and do happen regularly, but my thinking is, if you end up in that locality, you’re at least to your knees in quicksand and in need of a life buoy and/or tow chain pronto!
However, yet again, in a move that surprised absolutely nobody, Tom once again defied the medics, logic and expectations to not only get out of the NRH and back to his own home but back to us in Rehab just a few short weeks ago.
Yeah, he was on wheels again and we were competing for parking spaces at lunch time, but other than that it was the same old Tom. The wit, the positivity, the advisory role.
Never in a billion years did anybody think the ‘goodbye’ as he rolled onto the bus that Thursday evening would be the ‘long’ goodbye, as they say.
That such is the case has me stunned, heartbroken, lost for words and feeling like part of me is gone. We in RehabCare are very much a family unit, and Tom was the captain of ship.
The voyage will go on, as it must do, not least because it’s what he would have wanted, but also because it’s the best way to pay tribute to and carry on his legacy.
At ease soldier, your tour of duty is done. Rest easy old friend, you fought the good fight.
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