The Story of Old Tom and those who went before…

Amidst doom and gloom and financial collapse came news of a distant aunt and her fatal relapse.

She’d been ill for a while, causing family concern.

Following years of service, duty and labour she found love, a gift, she would have it, bestowed from the Lord above.

A man on the scene who made success in retail spent several years doting on my aunt until his heart did fail. His name was Tom.

Tom was not tall, but an ex-military man came out of the service, bought a travelling van.

When his first marriage demanded a more sedentary life he went into haberdashery and cared for his wife, in time she passed and that’s how at last he came to end his years with my aunt.

To my surprise from their demise I was to inherit a tidy sum.

I attended the funeral and paid my respect.

For the wake I visited their home.

People descended, goods and chattels upended and with stickers made their claim.

I couldn’t be party to join in and be hearty, to use my stickers to do the same.

I spied by the garage an old man on a bench made of concrete and looking forlorn.

I picked him up, put him in the car

I gave him a new home and for many long years Tom has sat outside our front door.

My fortunes changed, my troubles are few, with riches we have been blessed.

Grandchildren visit and sit a while, as Tom and my aunt look down and smile.

Their memory set in stone, children grow, always to know they never walk alone.

Richard Ludlow 2020

Pictured: Granddaughter Aoife (pronounced Eefa) with Old Tom