My first year at my first job out of college, I met Tom Nash. He was in his late 50s when I met him but had totally white hair that made him seem much older. He had the kindest eyes I had seen in the office. He had a way about him that made everyone comfortable to talk to him.
He was a manager and we met when he was showing me how to use mainframe SAS. In the corporate world, most people - especially in management are always trying to pretend like they know everything. I assumed it was some type of imposter syndrome since I came straight from college and didn't understand the why. But Tom was nothing like that. He was human and relatable. He was happy to help and share his knowledge. He would close his eye for a few seconds when he was thinking deep. You could almost see his mind working. Then he would open his eyes and tell you the solution to your problem.
A few days, I had to stay late to get some work done and he stopped by my cube just to chat. That is when he told me about going to Johns Hopkins Hospital (the same one that provides the COVID stats). He went there once a month every month for decades to donate platelets. It was a long process. Tom shared that sometimes inexperienced nurses would make it very painful. He started it to donate platelets to his younger sister who had a disease. This man has been keeping his sister and many other people with her condition alive by donating his platelets. I was moved to tears.
I thought about him a lot after he shared that with me. I started to wonder if that is why he was such a decent person. Going through this type of experience has to impact you to your core. Irrelevant things like sounding smart in a meeting isn't a priority. Maybe that is the ultimate need for suffering.
Though I changed my department after the first year, I kept in touch with Tom. I stopped by to see him and catch up a few times before he retired. In a typical Tom style, he refused to have a retirement party. Just an email saying he was retiring.
When I got that email, I stopped by his cube and gave him a hug. It was awkward. I don't think a lot of people in corporate America hug. And he wasn't expecting it.
Then a few days later, I was walking to the cafeteria and he was walking with a few people on the other side. When he spotted me, he put his books on the floor and paused. He told me he had botched the hug last time and wanted to do it right. So right there, on the crowded path to the cafeteria of corporate America, Tom Nash gave me a proper goodbye hug. I felt honored.
A few weeks ago, I typed Tom Nash in google and found his obituary page. He passed away in 2017 at the age of 69. Just A few months after the passing of his sister.
He was a manager and we met when he was showing me how to use mainframe SAS. In the corporate world, most people - especially in management are always trying to pretend like they know everything. I assumed it was some type of imposter syndrome since I came straight from college and didn't understand the why. But Tom was nothing like that. He was human and relatable. He was happy to help and share his knowledge. He would close his eye for a few seconds when he was thinking deep. You could almost see his mind working. Then he would open his eyes and tell you the solution to your problem.
A few days, I had to stay late to get some work done and he stopped by my cube just to chat. That is when he told me about going to Johns Hopkins Hospital (the same one that provides the COVID stats). He went there once a month every month for decades to donate platelets. It was a long process. Tom shared that sometimes inexperienced nurses would make it very painful. He started it to donate platelets to his younger sister who had a disease. This man has been keeping his sister and many other people with her condition alive by donating his platelets. I was moved to tears.
I thought about him a lot after he shared that with me. I started to wonder if that is why he was such a decent person. Going through this type of experience has to impact you to your core. Irrelevant things like sounding smart in a meeting isn't a priority. Maybe that is the ultimate need for suffering.
Though I changed my department after the first year, I kept in touch with Tom. I stopped by to see him and catch up a few times before he retired. In a typical Tom style, he refused to have a retirement party. Just an email saying he was retiring.
When I got that email, I stopped by his cube and gave him a hug. It was awkward. I don't think a lot of people in corporate America hug. And he wasn't expecting it.
Then a few days later, I was walking to the cafeteria and he was walking with a few people on the other side. When he spotted me, he put his books on the floor and paused. He told me he had botched the hug last time and wanted to do it right. So right there, on the crowded path to the cafeteria of corporate America, Tom Nash gave me a proper goodbye hug. I felt honored.
A few weeks ago, I typed Tom Nash in google and found his obituary page. He passed away in 2017 at the age of 69. Just A few months after the passing of his sister.
It's a beautiful thing that he continues to live within you, but now you've shared his story, so he's in us too.
This quote illustrates how Tom is one of the 'real' ones. Nice. And thank you for sharing these stories.
I also sometimes type in names of people that I had a strange yet strong connection to in the past. I always also wonder whether their
We are all going to die some day. It is a good reminder to meet someone like Tom and know what a life well lived looks like.
"Real" is the right description.