Thomas

Thomas wasn’t just someone you met — he was someone you felt. As his parent, I saw from the very beginning that he had this presence about him that people noticed straight away. He was big — physically, yes — big shoulders, a strong build… my “chunky monkey” when he was younger — but more than that, he had a way of filling a room without needing to be loud or attention-seeking.

He was never the one standing in the spotlight or trying to impress people. He didn’t need to. He had a quiet confidence, a dry sense of humour that would catch you off guard, and a way of making people feel comfortable just by being there. You could sit with Thomas and feel at ease. You could talk to him about anything, and you knew he’d still be there afterwards.

He was also incredibly loyal — that’s something everyone says about him, and I saw it every day. If you were his friend, you truly were his friend. He didn’t have loads of people around him, but he didn’t need to. The people he did have, he held onto tightly. Those friendships meant everything to him, and he showed up for them in a way that you don’t often see anymore.

He had a real love for life, in his own way. He was a proper petrol head — anything with an engine interested him. Cars, machinery, working on the farm, driving whatever he could get his hands on… he loved practical things, real things, things that made sense to him. He also pushed himself, especially with wheelchair basketball. That became such a big part of his life. It gave him friendships, a sense of community, and real purpose. He committed to it fully, playing for more than one team and working so hard. I was incredibly proud of him.

When he became ill, everything changed around him — but in so many ways, he stayed exactly the same. He took his treatment far better than I ever expected. He just got on with it. He built relationships with the nurses, staff and Abby’s Heroes Family Support Workers, and people really cared about him. Even in hospital, Thomas left a mark on everyone he met.

During those times when we had to travel up to London for treatment, we tried not to let it just be about hospital appointments. We made something of it. We would go out, explore, find food — and in his words, “eat our way around London.” Those moments mattered so much. They were small, but they made difficult days that little bit easier.

Despite his diagnosis, Thomas never really gave up. Even when things became incredibly hard, he just kept going in his own quiet way. He didn’t make a big thing of it — he just carried on being Thomas. He kept his humour, his way with people, his ability to find something good in each day.

Thomas was also one of the most affectionate people I’ve ever known. He would always hug you, always pull people close — sometimes literally — with what he called a “family hug,” where suddenly everyone was included whether they expected it or not. He showed his love openly, and I think that’s something that stays with people as much as anything else.

After we lost him, I knew I didn’t want Thomas to just fade into memory. I don’t want people to stop saying his name. He was too important, too special, and too loved for that.

At his funeral, we said something that has stayed with us ever since: “Be more Thomas.” And the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realised how much that truly means. I read this poem at his funeral…

They say everything has a reason, well..........
We learnt a lesson,
We learn to live
SO
Send that car faster and make that black smoke
Be that team player who wins the point
Forgive a little quicker
And worry a lot less
Laugh that much louder
And hug all that harder
Love without limits
And embrace life's learning
Live for today and do it faster
Don't wait for tomorrow
For tomorrow is not a given
And remember
Lettuce is not a food or even a good idea
#Bemorethomas

So, if there’s one thing his family would ask, it’s this: if you’re going to support Abby’s Heroes, then do it fully. Challenge yourself in whatever way feels right. Do something that matters. Do something that reflects the kind of person Thomas was. Because in doing that, you’re not just supporting a cause. You are carrying something of him forward. You are helping us all, in our own way, to be a little bit more like Thomas. Head over to the Facebook page #Bemorethomas to discover how we are trying to get stickers over vehicles across the world.