Timothy Alan Pedersen, Tim, Timmie, Zima – oh how you have left a lasting impression on all of us.
Most everyone remembers the first time they met Tim and I am confident everyone remembers the first time they met Zima. He was a memorable character.
For me it was a December business lunch at Theo’s. I believe it was Kate who I asked that day to tell me “who did their beautiful Christmas tree”. It had this amazing cornice of pheasant feathers crowning its top. I thought, who would put pheasant feathers in a tree? Tim would.
Christmas was a time when there simply wasn’t enough Tim to go around. He talked about “Tim’s Trim A Tree” service. The more of everything the better… more lights, more bulbs, more feathers, more trees, more trips to Hobby Lobby. Perhaps if he could have started decorating for us all in April, he could have kept up with our demand.
He was just that good. I remember one year attempting to decorate my tree on my own. I had all kinds of florals: hydrangias, lilies, passion flowers – I decided if Tim could do it, I could do it too. I threw in the towel after four hours, called and asked him to stop over on his way out for the evening. It took him ten minutes to make a masterpiece out of my mess. And his parting comment was, “promise me next time you will call me first.”
The year his tree won the “Most Elegant” at the Festival of Trees, he took his “favorite girl” as his date that night. He picked out her red suit, her hose, her shoes, styled her hair and did her make up. Folks thought he and his mom came from New York for the event – they looked great together. And he would say all night long, “can you believe this woman is fifty?” “Doesn’t she look hot?”
He had no problem telling his women friends. “You look hot” or “vavavavoom” or “giiiiiirrrlll mmmm you got it going on” or my favorite “you look amazing and that man is one damn fool”.
Everyone needs a Tim in their life. Someone you accept simply for who they are. Someone who accepts you simply for who you are. Someone who takes you on an adventure. And Tim could make going to the grocery store an adventure.
For me the adventure would be to the furniture or hardware store. Most everyone knows he did much of the interior and exterior work for my home. He painted my walls bright green and red, the ceilings yellow and lime. He glued paper bags to my kitchen floor and we laughed until we were escorted out of Loews on one occasion.
Out of the many things I will miss about Tim, it will be wandering the aisles of the big box hardware stores. His smart and clever wit with the clerks immediately endeared him to them. His confidence that his way was ALWAYS the right way when it came to home improvement left me with a beautiful and unusual home, a much lighter pocketbook and more than a few stories of compromise.
Tim would make sure that the staff announced him to me “as your decorator is on line two”. He did a beautiful job restoring the home he and Steve shared on 2nd Avenue but when it wasn’t ready in time for a photo shoot he had pre-arranged, I came back from a four o’clock meeting with a note from Tim tucked by my phone. It read, “My house won’t be done in time for the magazine’s photo shoot tomorrow, I’m going to bring them to your house instead. Don’t worry. Yours will be ready in time.”
Don’t worry. That was a favorite Tim line. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it done, when have I ever not gotten it done?” And he usually did, although our timelines might not have always aligned perfectly.
In the last few days, his family has shared pictures and stories of Tim as a boy with me. He was a beautiful little boy with a grin and eyes that still shined three decades later with their non chalant, devil may care attitude, breathlessly fearless at times.
Whether it was swimming in the ditches with his older siblings when the snow melted in the Spring, or snatching green apples from the trees to eat in the Fall when he knew they would make him sick, or helping in the recovery efforts during the 1989 San Francisco earthquake while his Navy ship was docked in the Bay, Tim was Tim. Present in the moment, helpful too, his humor and quick wit always stood ready to serve.
Yet his life was a testament that facing differences and adversity could indeed make one stronger but it did not come without pain.
As a gay man, he was saddened that he could not legally marry or have children of his own. He was deeply hurt when others would use words that would disrespect the very basic human dignity that all God’s children are endowed with.
He paid special attention to his nieces and nephews – their wellbeing were thoughts closest to his heart.
For his dogs Sonny and Charlie, they became his kids – a source of centering for him.
And then one night while he was sleeping, his partner Eric submitted an application for him to work for the postal service. Who would’ve thought that the post office would have been such a great fit for Tim? He loved that job. And he was so proud to wear the uniform. He walked over 4000 miles in just under two years each one of them marked on his smart phone app.
He felt that his life would not be long in years, so he knew that he had to put a lot of life into those years. We talked about it on more than one occasion. It was hard to hear the news last Thursday when it was delivered because his life was so very full at its end. He had his new home near the Cathedral. His relationship with Eric. A career that he loved and a true sense of pride in all that he was accomplishing.
So on the morning of April 12, 2012, after his morning coffee, the angels surrounded him and stayed with him giving him wings to fly, a place to stand and watch over those he cared for here and a paintbrush to color heaven in the palate of a rainbow.
Goodbye Tim for now, we will miss you, we will remember you and we are proud of you. 
