Tributes
Leave a tributeMay your spirit be at peace with our Lord and Savior. God Bless.
Leave a Tribute
Timothy played a major part of/in Rebecca's life, on too many levels to dive into here. He was and continues to be present in our home with various pieces of art he and Rebecca made.
I knew Timothy as well, albeit too briefly. I was quite fond of him. I remember one particular trip where he and I spent a very long evening at Kuba Kuba in Richmond toasting our common love for Rebecca.
I miss them both dearly.
Honestly I didn't know Timothy as well as I should have. Most of our chats were brief moments between changing shifts discussing little known movies with cult followings or other random musings. The one thing that always stood about Timothy is that he didn't mince words or beat around the bush. You know where he stood on things. Straight shooter. I was really saddened to hear of his passing and I think bothered that I didn't know you better. Fare thee well Timothy.
Rhubarb is Forever Changed for the Better
Timothy always made it a point to leave his mark on everything he did. He did it with his artwork changing the way I view simple shapes and juxtapose color. He did it when I helped him renovated houses, redesigning rooms uniquely Timothy. He used media that was not common to the application and it always turned out brilliantly. With his landscaping projects he found ways to turn water, wood, earth and ordinary items into exceptional areas. A space that would spark my imagination, a space that would make me think, a place to ponder and wonder what could be accomplished if I apply myself.
I will miss you Timothy but I will never forget you. You have forever altered the way I look at and enjoy rhubarb. I did not grow up eating rhubarb. I could not have told you what it was or even if it was a food. It was not until I met my wife and her family 20 years ago. They turned me onto rhubarb and I have enjoyed it immensely ever since. I now walk out my front door and gaze upon my wife’s rhubarb plants and I smile. You are perpetually engrained in my mind. When I see or smell or have the luxury of enjoying rhubarb I will think of you I will smile and reflect on the times we enjoyed together.
You will be forever missed but never forgotten. Take care friend.
Here's to the next life
I remember meeting you, Timothy, in 2010; three days locked in a conference room at the Command Center with Kipp Brooks and Lavont Avent and a host of other high-energy personalities; after all, you have to be high-energy to thrive in that environment. I was a little confounded, not knowing how we might have known one another, when we had clearly never met, at least not in this life. Indeed, it was a co-creator’s spark; that serendipity that sometimes happens, the picking up of a conversation that seemed to have been left off in another life. You are an old soul, my friend, one who savored life, and I have visions of you sitting on a cloud, wishing for us that we would all know that life doesn't end, it just changes shape sometimes. When I read Pam’s story, I chuckled, for you indeed are smiling at us, from an airplane, an eagle – and from a story of rhubarb pie. Your shoes are so big that no one will fill them, and that’s how we will remember you. We will eat rhubarb pie on the 7th day at the 7th hour – there’s already an appointment on the calendar – and I will look forward to meeting you again in the next life. Namaste. Be with God.