A close and dear friend to my dad has written a letter about dad that was so beautiful, I had to share. I hope it brings a smile to your face like it did for me. 

My name is Melissa Bernardino and for the past few weeks, I’ve been Tom’s Healthcare and General Power of Attorney.  But for the past 8 years, I was more than that. I was Tom’s co-worker - some would say work wife, travel buddy, parenting advisor, or dating coach – but most importantly, I was honored enough to be one of Tom’s friends.  Most of you don’t know me – and that’s ok – because through Tom, I feel as if I know every one of you.  I know the Navy group and stories from his days on the ship. I know his Cedar family and his frustrations with Jira, Tableau, backlogs, and demanding clients. I know his breakfast club, how much he hated when the Hickory House closed down, and how he hated missing Wednesday meetings. I also know how much your recent driveway visit meant, and how disappointed he was that he wasn’t up for doing it again the following week.  I know his cycling buddies and how much fun he had on the 100-mile Century ride and the weekly rides through Alpharetta or along the Silver Comet trail. I know his extended family, managing the trailer park in South Georgia, fishing and enjoying Thanksgiving dinner with his aunts and cousins. I know the Pikes and how much the fraternity and Georgia Tech meant to him. I virtually attended tailgates, basketball and football games with him, and celebrated wins while suffering disappointing losses. I know all of you because you mattered to Tom and he was proud to share stories about your lives and how you, in turn, impacted his life. Most importantly, I know his children Ally and Ava, two girls of whom he couldn’t have been more proud! I had a front row seat, through his eyes, to track meets, cross country races, family vacations, volleyball games, boyfriend drama, sorority bids, and regattas.  I saw pictures of homecoming dances, prom, beach trips, sporting events, and regular weekend fun, his face always beaming - more so if the girls were doing something goofy in the background 😉

Tom was proud of where he came from, focused on living his best life in Dunwoody, and solidly firm in knowing where his future was.  The pictures of his childhood home and barn hang in his office, a reminder of his humble roots and the folks whom he loved and who raised him to be the man he was. The signed picture of his Navy ship is displayed in his family room, a reminder of his service to our country and the brothers and sisters with whom he served and for whom he would have given his life.  He took seriously his volunteer roles, as church usher, rowing treasurer, Georgia Tech Business Network Board member, and NACHA council advisor. He was fanatical about his sports teams – the Braves, Atlanta United, and the Yellow Jackets.  He was passionate about work, both the people and the processes. He loved to travel and meet new people, and everyone Tom met was better for knowing him.  Our “Whiskey group” – people who all worked in banking services and got together as part of a national conference group - met over the years, in various cities, from coast to coast, and no matter what was planned on our itinerary, we could count on Tom to add a whole new level of adventure to our trips! Tom took us through and around cities, sometimes driving, more often walking, and led us each time along some interesting routes to get to local whiskey bars. We got lost occasionally, we traveled through some sketchy parts of town, we walked 2 miles when we could have gotten there in 1, and we often laughed at how seriously he took his role as Team Navigator.  But looking back on this, I’m thankful for the long routes, the detours, and the unexpected sights.  You see, for Tom, it wasn’t just about the destination - it was also about the journey. And that is why, throughout his cancer treatment, he stayed focused on his destination – the kingdom of Heaven – while enjoying, though at times suffering, the journey to get there.

The last few months were not kind to Tom. Crushing headaches, sleepless nights, nerve pain, the loss of mobility in his arm, vocal cord paralysis, breathing difficulty, and a growing mass in his neck plagued him. We spoke almost daily, and even through the pain and suffering, his energy and passion were still there. He didn’t want to have a tracheotomy, but he was willing to do whatever it took to get more time with his friends and family, especially his daughters.  Tom wasn’t afraid of dying. He only feared leaving us all behind. He never questioned God, though he did question his circumstances. It was OK when Tom agonized and cried out to God, for in doing so, he was still acknowledging God’s presence and authority in his life. Tom was firm in his faith and solid in living out God’s plan for him, even when he didn’t understand the “why” behind his struggles.

The night before his scheduled surgery, Tom face-timed with his kids and talked to his boss and a few friends. He was joking with the nurses, anxious to get past the surgery so he could wake up and breathe easy and get back to talking with co-workers, friends and family. He wanted to feel better and believed with every breath that he could beat cancer! Tom was willing to do what it took to get back to doing the things he enjoyed, so he was going to get the tracheotomy and figure out how to live with it.  He was at peace with his decision and anxious to get it over with. He called me late that night, just before bed, and I re-assured him that he was safe in God’s hands. He said to me “good night, I’ll see you on the flip side” - not knowing just how true those words would be.

Tom, I hope I do indeed, see you on the flip side. It was an honor and a privilege to be your friend.