Monday, March 19, 2007

Thank You

Dear Friends,

I'd like to thank you for all the expressions of love and sympathy Tim's family and I have received since his death on December 15th (2006). Many folks have asked if Tim died as a result of all the health problems he'd had over the years and that's partly true, I guess. (See The Tim Cox Story)

Tim fell here at home on Wednesday, December 13th and broke his left leg close to the hip. On Thursday they operated to fix the leg and he had a heart attack in the Recovery Room. Although the doctors did everything medically possible to save him they could not get his blood pressure back up to anything near normal. Tim's tired heart finally just gave out and stopped on Friday afternoon.

Psalm 91 was given to Tim's mother by the Lord as an encouragement many years ago, and it promises long life to those who set their love upon the Lord. Tim was only 60 years old and that's not really a long life to most people. It certainly didn't seem long enough to me. But for Tim whose body had undergone so many attacks and challenges over his lifetime, it actually was.

Tim was the most courageous, kind, loving, and determined man I ever knew. He was my very best friend almost from the moment we met. Only my Lord Jesus Christ has ever been closer to me, and I miss Tim dreadfully. But today Tim can see, has both his legs, all his fingers and a strong heart, and I believe he is experiencing the greatest of joy with his Lord and with those who arrived in heaven before he did.

Some have said he's playing his French horn with the heavenly orchestra, others have said he's probably water skiing or driving his 280Z (if there is a way to do that in heaven), dancing, playing tennis, telling funny stories and all those other things Tim loved to do at some time in his life on earth. His daughter Angie said he's probably already been elected President of some group, organizing ways to help somebody else! They may all be right.

And he is meeting and greeting family and friends who went ahead of him, especially his grandmother and his dad, but many others who Tim loved. Tim's spiritual gifts included helping a multitude of other people and encouraging everyone he knew whether they were close friends or new acquaintances. I told someone that Tim could make a friend out of a wrong number, and that was true. He even put one lady who had dialed the wrong number on hold, then used our business line to get her the right number.

When I am tempted to feel sorry for myself, my heart hears a little voice telling me to "Look forward, not back." I am striving to do that, to look forward as I work to make the Lord — and Tim — proud of the way I live my life from this point.

A number of people have asked me about the Family Memories column. Actually, my writing it was Tim's idea in the first place. I think he would like for me to continue so I'll try to get back to it in the very near future. If you ever met Tim, would you let me know? I'm making a little collection of the various ways people were touched by his life.

In the meantime, Tim's family and I wish to say a heartfelt thanks to you for all the expressions of love and sympathy we have received. With gratitude and prayers for a blessed 2007 for us all,

Bette Cox

I use different routes these days...

March 19, 2007

The strangest things happen occasionally. I'll start to drive down a familiar street and realize that the last time I drove down this street Tim was in the car with me. Then I can't make myself continue down that street. I'll turn off somewhere, go a different route, even if my destination is one where Tim and I had been numerous times. There's just something about remembering that last drive on this street, this block, that gets to me.

The first time I went to buy groceries was like that. It was very hard. I no longer had to purchase certain things that Tim liked, that I previously bought just for him. My shopping list was much shorter, truncated, just as I felt my heart was. Pushing my cart down certain aisles became nearly impossible and I just didn't buy some things that day.

Last night as I drove home from my small group meeting I deliberately went the long way around, just so I wouldn't feel that same horrible aloneness when there should have been the two of us in the car.

For a similar reason I no longer use the front door to my condo much. I could, but now I park the car near the side door that Tim and I never used together because it has a step. I don't need the handicap parking space close to the front door so I just park near the side door. Entering the condo this way doesn't trigger fresh memories of the last time Tim and I went in or out of our condo together, and that way it doesn't trigger fresh pain.

Strange, the things I do to keep that pain at bay, the pain of Tim not accompanying me when I leave the house. Even though I went many places, many times, by myself in the past, it's those times we went in and out together that are still too fresh, too tender in my mind.

I know Tim can experience my comings and goings along with me, and he can see where we're going now where he couldn't before. Sometimes the Lord lets me hear Tim's reaction to seeing the inside of a place we'd been but he'd never seen, like Lowe's, or the Mall — cluttered. Jumbled. Noisy he knew, but splashy, junky, cluttered he didn't know. I was never that good at describing all the stuff you find in places like that. His reaction to those places is funny, really, like a kid sometimes turning up his nose at spinach, yuk - why on earth do you want to shop here, I can almost hear him say. Well, I'm used to the junkiness, I don't even think about it, I tell him.

It's just that his physical presence was so much a part of my life. It's something I want back! But not want back too, if it meant Tim wouldn't be well and whole and able to see and do everything he can see and do in heaven these days.

I know one day this hurtful aloneness feeling will be gone. It just comes over me sometimes and I use whatever means I need to get past it.

Bette's Website

All former material on this blogsite and Bette's other blogs has been transferred to her website www.BetteCox.com.

This blog will be dedicated to Bette's thoughts and reactions following the death of her beloved husband, Tim C. Cox, on December 15, 2006.

Thank You is a letter Bette wrote to the community following Tim's death.

Several of the following are special posts about Tim. One is an article Bette wrote about Tim several years ago, titled The Tim Cox Story. The Cool Dozen is an article Tim wrote himself, about an adventure he and several friends had on Black River the year they graduated from high school.

Please visit Bette's website to read her Family Memories newspaper columns, her short stories, humerous online novel, Bible studies, opinion pieces and other writings, www.BetteCox.com.

The above photograph was taken by Bette in their living room the Sunday before Tim died.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

The Tim Cox Story

In 2004 Bette was asked to write an article about her husband Tim for the Voice of the Diabetic Magazine, published and distributed worldwide by the National Federation of the Blind. The following article appeared in the Fall 2004 edition.

The article appeared with this photograph. The caption on the poster in the background reads: “Do Not Pray for an Easy Life...Pray to be a Strong Person.”


"Tim Cox 'Sees' a Lot More Life than Most Folks Do" reads the article headline from the Florence Morning News of Sunday, May 4, 1986.

This just one of dozens written over the years about the 58 year old native of Kingstree, South Carolina, who at age 5 developed juvenile diabetes. Insulin shots became a way of life for this little boy, in the days when there was very little sugar-free anything to satisfy a child's craving for sweets. A constant dietary balancing act became his mother Ora Lee's way of life, as were frequent trips to the doctor's office or hospital.

As Tim grew, he determined to never let diabetes stop him from accomplishing the important things in life. He joined the high school tennis team, played french horn and the trombone in the marching band, he water skiied, and he had a ton of friends. In 1964 he graduated from Kingstree High School (celebrating their 40th class reunion with Tim as primary instigator this June). He went on to business school, began work as a computer programmer, and got married. His daughter Angelia was born. And then Tim started having vision problems. He underwent laser treatments, traveled to Dukane University in Pittsburgh to be trained as a blind programmer, and by Labor Day 1974, Tim began losing his eyesight. A month later his kidneys failed.

Up until that time, diabetics in South Carolina had never been put on dialysis. They were left to die. But Tim wouldn't give up, and after many agonizing days of praying, pleading and waiting, he became the first diabetic ever to be put on dialysis in South Carolina. His wife learned how to do home dialysis, but the many pressures of his illness soon led to separation and later divorce. Once again Tim had to rely on his parents, family and friends, and a lot of prayer.

Eventually Tim's mother learned to operate the home dialysis unit, and the family settled into a precarious routine. Tim refused to settle for being "disabled." He got involved with his whole heart in the community -- serving on local boards for the American Diabetic Association (ADA), American Cancer Society, Kidney Foundation, and Jaycees. He helped found the Black River CB Club and organized such activities as the "Coffee Club Patrol," calling drivers in from the highway to raise funds for house fire victims. During these years, Tim won many awards: Outstanding Jaycee in South Carolina, 1978; Kingstree Jaycee of the Year 1979, and the Adam Fisher Award of the ADA, 1981. He was a member of the Committee on Computers for the Physically Handicapped based in Chicago, Illinois, the South Carolina Physically Handicapped Society and the National Federation for the Blind. He kept very busy between dialysis treatments.

In 1978, after four years of ups and downs with dialysis, Tim and his mother traveled to the New England Deaconess Hospital in Boston and Ora Lee donated a kidney. Tim arrived home from the hospital at 12:05 AM, Christmas Day 1978. A month later, he became public affairs director and talk show host for WKSP radio in Kingstree. He owned a 1976 Datsun 280Z, and with driver Joel Stone, in 1979 he competed in several Sports Car Club of America races, coming home with first or second places.

"He Has Battled Death and Won." So reads a December 17, 1979 Charlotte Observer headline. A State Newspaper headline of December 25, 1979 reads, "Christmas Very Special to Tim Cox." And it was, indeed. Tim celebrated by arranging for the Brass Ensemble of the Charleston Symphony to play two public concerts in Kingstree, "as a Christmas gift to the community."

"Blindness Didn't Stop Him," reads the headline from a Florence Morning News article of 1983. Tim had determined to get on with his career and enrolled in Francis Marion University in Florence. He moved to Florence, rented a room in a boarding house, and still owned a car. "It's a lot easier to bum a ride if you have your own car," he said. He graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration in December of 1982 and went to work as the only blind instructor in the state's technical college system. He had all his text books audiotaped and recorded his class notes on tape also. "Talk about a challenge, whew!" he said. He moved into an apartment complex and "sometimes I would be known to run into the hall asking my neighbors, what was in the box of Lean Cuisine, and for how long did I set the microwave!"

About that time, Tim met Bette Gaymon at a Full Gospel Businessmen's meeting in Florence, where she served as pianist. They began dating and were married on Christmas Day, 1984. Diets and insulin shots became the way of life for yet another person in Tim's life.

When Tim's contract with the technical college ran out, he and Bette opened their own business, Executive Services of the Pee Dee, Inc., a full-line secretarial service. It was May, 1986. Tim and Bette both got involved in their community. With Bette at the wheel of his car, Tim became a popular spokesman for the ADA, speaking to civic and church groups across the state. Both joined the board of Crimestoppers of the Pee Dee, and Tim took up playing his french horn again, joining Bette in the music ministry of their church. Their business grew and expanded along with their community activities.

"Tim Cox Receives President's Trophy," reports a May 1988 headline from the Florence Morning News, as Tim was named Florence's Handicapped Citizen of the Year. This award was followed by being named South Carolina Handicapped Citizen of the Year for 1988, as well as Employer of the Year of the Handicapped, recognized for hiring handicapped employees for his business. But ...

By 1987, Ora Lee's donated kidney had begun to fail. Despite the tightest blood sugar control Tim and Bette could achieve, diabetes had taken a toll on the transplant, and Tim began to study the possibility of a pancreas transplant to stop the diabetes completely. There was one obstacle -- he also had coronary and other major artery disease, likewise a result of diabetes. "Get your arteries fixed, and then we'll talk," said the physicians. That didn't seem to be an option at the time.

But in May of 1987, Tim was admitted to the hospital with unstable angina, and while an inpatient on the cardiac floor he suffered cardiac arrest. An emergency pacemaker saved his life and ten days later he underwent triple bypass surgery. Later that year, his right leg had to be amputated due to gangrene. Diabetes had wrecked the peripheral arterial system in the leg. After recovering from all that, Tim made another call about the pancreas transplant, and after traveling alone in September 1988 to the University of Minnesota Medical Center for a complete examination, he was accepted as a candidate for a double kidney-pancreas transplant. Since the kidney was already weak, they must replace it also. While Tim awaited a donor, this time he began fund raising efforts for himself -- in 1988, insurance companies considered a pancreas transplant experimental and wouldn't cover those costs.

"Tim Cox Never Gives In To Fate" said Charlie Walker in a December 14th newspaper column in the Kingstree News. "Tim Cox believes when you're handed lemons, you make lemonade," quipped Charlie. He pointed out all the other people Tim had helped over the years, and the fact that now Tim needed help. Charlie organized a Jail-A-Thon to help out. Civic clubs, church groups, friends, business acquaintances, and even strangers -- people all over the state began helping out. Billboards went up all over the county: "Tim Cox Needs $100,000." A trust fund was set up by a local civic club, a beeper was donated, and money started coming in.

On December 23, 1988, the call came in. "We've got a perfect match. You need to get here within twelve hours." But the private planes Tim had lined up weren't available due to the holidays. And all the major airports connecting to Florence were fogged in, so he couldn't get to Minneapolis on a regular airline, even though Florence skies were clear. Desperate calls went out for a private plane, and one was finally found in North Carolina. Friends, family and news reporters waved goodbye as Tim's parents, Tim and Bette flew out of Florence, headed for Minneapolis. By this time Bette's daughter Shelby Powell was helping run the business, a tremendous blessing over the weeks ahead.

The transplants took place on Christmas Eve. All day long Tim's parents and Bette sat, stood, paced the floor and prayed in the nearly deserted waiting room, and finally Dr. David Sutherland, head of the surgical team, came out with the news. The pancreas and kidney were working fine -- the pancreas fired up immediately when the last stitch went in and Tim no longer needed insulin shots.

Over the next two days, bleeding problems necessitated two more surgeries, but thirty days later Tim was back home in Florence and well on the way to recovery. Diabetes was no longer a problem but fund raising had to resume, with talent shows, gospel sings, auctions, and a myriad of other events. Slowly but surely, the community responded and enough funds were collected to defray most of the medical bills and medications not covered by insurance.

Today, over 15 years later, Tim is busier than ever. The transplants are still working fine, and Tim is a true advocate for pancreas and kidney transplants, and of course organ donation. The disease was stopped in its tracks, but the damage already caused by diabetes wasn't reversible. Tim lost his other leg in 1989 and later most of his fingers. He's had several small strokes which affected his hearing. However, he still runs his business, still plays his french horn for church, and is still active in community affairs and politics. In 1991 he organized the UP (for Used Parts) Club, a support group for transplant patients of all types, and established the Carolina Transplant Foundation, a nonprofit organization designed to assist patients in fund-raising. He received WBTW-TV13's "Giving Your Best" Award in 1991. In 1992 he added another division to his company, Advanced Insulation. He was named Florence County Republican Party Volunteer of the Year for 1993-95, and received the James B. Edwards Award of the state Republican Party in 1998.

"Advantage: Attitude" is yet another headline about Tim. "I don't consider myself handicapped, I'm handicapable," declared Tim in the 1992 business article in the Morning News. That really sums it up well. "Tim Cox is Not Special; He's Stubborn," said another Morning News column in 1997. "I like to surprise people. I like to do things they think I can't do." And he's still doing it. Tim is now a grandfather with a two year old granddaughter, Bella.(And now a 1 year old grandson, Liam.) He and Bette recently added a new division to their company, Family Memories, which conducts interviews for personal histories, biographies or memoirs. Visit their web site and take a look at Tim's resume. (www.SCFamilyMemories.com)

Tim could never have survived, much less accomplished all that he has, without the help of his family, his multitudes of friends, and his faith in Jesus Christ. Every time there was a medical setback, a call for prayer went out across South and North Carolina and things took a dramatic turn for the better. A special Bible verse came to Tim's mom Ora Lee during a critical period, and over the years it has been a great source of strength. If you don't remember much else about Tim Cox, remember that verse: "With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation." (Psalms 91:16)

That is the reason that still today, "Tim Cox 'Sees' a Lot More Life than Most Folks Do."

A Cool Dozen

Black River, SC
Tim Cox recalls a memorable trip down Black River in 1964...

December 26, 1964 a dozen members of the 1964 Class of Kingstree High School, most home from our first college semester, took a boat trip down Black River for fun, fellowship and adventure.

Charlie Bell, Tommy Bishop, Buford Boyd, Tim Cox, Danny Fry, Paul Jacobs, Billy Jenkinson, James Hugh McCutcheon, Richard Mims, Frank Seignious, Phil Stoll, and Johnny Tanner distributed ourselves among seven small boats of varying sizes, all powered by small outboard motors. An adult friend, Aubrey Williamson, served as unofficial guide for the first leg of the trip and carried our supplies in his large 16-foot boat.

One of South Carolina's scenic rivers, Black River is indeed black although clear, not muddy, with a white sand bottom. If you scooped up a glass full, the water would look just like brewed tea. Tannic acid from cypress trees growing along the river darkens the water, like the tannic acid in tea. Lynches River, Little Pee Dee, Waccamaw, Edisto, and Black River all have black water from cypress trees.

The morning after Christmas dawned sunny and cool. We put in below Kingstree, planning to end the day at Brown's Landing. Near Kingstree the river was barely twenty feet wide and in narrow spots the water ran swift, but suddenly the river opened out into a beautiful vista. Except for navigating around the occasional log we had smooth travel for miles. Ducks and deer peered at us from the banks as we put-putted by. There were no snakes or alligators to worry us, being winter time.

Our 4:30 arrival at the Landing left little daylight to set up camp and unpack food supplies. As the sun went down and the temperature with it, we scrounged for kindling and started a camp fire. Aubrey's ride arrived and he departed for home and his nice, warm bed. Hot dogs, vienna sausages, peanuts and junk food made our supper, but our favorites that night were coffee and hot chocolate. It was growing very chilly.

We were all dressed appropriately for the occasion, we thought -- heavy coats, hats, gloves, hunting boots and thick socks. Each had a sleeping bag and Charlie Bell and Tommy Bishop even had a tent. We kept the fire going until too tired to tend it, sleeping bags spread in a semicircle around it. Crawling in fully clothed with hats pulled low and just our noses poking out to breath, we thought sleep would be easy. It wasn't.

We were not prepared for the 24-degree weather that night, plus sleet. Tree branches kept the worst of the sleet off of us, but Charlie soon got so cold he decided to re-start the fire. The sound of Charlie chopping down trees to feed the fire awakened the rest of us every couple of hours.

At daylight all we wanted was coffee and hot chocolate to thaw us out. Ice had formed in the bottom of some boats, and Billy Jenkinson and Frank Seignious' outboard engine refused to crank. Billy pulled until his arm tired out and Frank crawled to the back to help out. Unbalanced, their two-man boat tipped one way, then the other, and water poured in on three sides. Bailing their boat delayed our departure, but finally we got that last engine cranked up.

Aubrey didn't return that morning -- guess he thought it was too cold -- so Danny Fry took over solo control of my boat, I moved to Aubrey's 16-footer, and the smaller boats moved out in front. Aubrey had warned us that the river was deceptive close to the landing, and he was right. In the daylight the water appeared to run straight ahead but the map showed a 90-degree turn to the right. Sure enough, some guys missed the turn and ran out of water. They thought they'd have to haul the boats through the woods to find the river again. Watching from behind, I circled around and slowly ran down the right hand side, checking the current until I found the turn between two large cypress trees. The opening was only 12 to 15 feet wide. We re-grouped and started again.

Down river we stopped at a cabin where some guys came out to chat. "We hate to tell you," they said, "but there's some fallen trees blocking the water downriver. Those small boats might make it but you'll never get that big boat through." Well, being teenage boys we decided to go for it anyway. Sure enough, a few miles downstream the river was blocked. Some of our dozen had been football players, big strong guys, so they climbed out to clear enough of the brush on one sandy bank to carry the boats around. The small boats were easy, but Aubrey's 16-footer was nearly impossible. Wearing his waders, Richard Mims eased out into the water. We all yanked, pushed and pulled to make a gap big enough to manhandle the big boat through. A solid hour of precious daylight was gone. "Are we still having fun?"

Things seemed to be going fine again, when we hit a "T" where it looked like the body of Black River ran into some other river. As the boats up ahead turned right, I watched to see which way the water flowed. Yep, that was the wrong way. Back-tracking was getting old, but nearing Andrews where the water gets wide, we thought we could make up for lost time. And we did, until we reached the Andrews Narrows and yet another log jam. This time there was no way around. Ropes were made fast to one log, then another, the outboards were cranked up, and gradually we pulled the downed trees apart. Another long hour had passed, but all the boats were through. We were getting short on fun and a little long on adventure…

Out in the wider water there were no trees close enough to serve as windbreaks. The cold was seeping through to our bones, and with daylight getting away we speeded up and stretched out. My boat had a smaller engine than the others and Danny had trouble keeping up. The rest of us arrived at Brown's Ferry, piled out and got a bonfire started, but still no Danny. When Aubrey rejoined us at the Ferry he and another guy took off in his boat upriver, searching. They found Danny still put-putting along, holding up a gas lantern to see where he was going.

Huddled around the bonfire we tried our best to get warm. Buford Boyd pulled off his frozen boots, stretched his feet close to the fire and said, "If I could figure out how to levitate and hold both feet out at one time that sure would be great."

After a moment he added, "You know, I'm mad at my mama." We all asked, "Why?" He said, "She had better sense than to let me come on something like this!"