There has never been a doubt in my mind that Thomas was liked. Nay loved. Be it by his plethora of friends, an impression left on acquaintances, or a simple blog created by his measly little sister, his presence was always felt. Which makes his lack of presence feel like a massive hole, impossible to fill.

Two years have come and gone and I still find myself referencing Thomas in a story, laughing at a joke or story we once shared and feeling a heavy heart for no longer having my big brother to create new memories with.

He may have not have had the most elegant way with words. His actions definitely wouldn’t define him as the perfect gentleman. But man, when that boy walked into a room it lit up. You were drawn to his charisma, his carefree demeanour and the party that always followed closely behind.

When Thomas was with us, I used to complain that he was impossible to fight with. Whether he borrowed my headphones and lost them, ate my leftovers in the fridge, bailed last minute on plans, or made a sexist comment like “GET BACK INTO THE KITCHEN HOUSEHOLD!”

A simple sorry Corey and that sly side grin and there was no rebuttal in sight.

Infuriating as hell, but in hindsight a blessing in disguise. I have never felt burdened with memories of fights or disagreements. When I think of Thomas, only happy stories and thoughts fill my mind. A legacy most could only dream to leave behind.

To this day, I still run into old friends, neighbours or acquaintances who share their sympathy, a memory with Thomas and describe the same hole left from his passing. I’m still treated like family amongst his friends, and hugs from family last a little longer and feel a little tighter.

Because we are all just trying to hold on. To each other and to him.

Because losing Thomas wasn’t MY loss, it’s OUR loss.

And because through these memories, he will never die. His legacy will always live on.