Timothy Lawrence Mallon- July 8, 1948 - November 12, 2019                         My brother and how I remember him

My younger brother Timothy died yesterday, Tuesday, November 12, 2019 in San Diego.

Although the doctors think is was from a disease called Mantle Cell Lymphoma (they were never sure), those that knew him well think that it might have been from a broken heart.

Timothy Lawrence Mallon in 1970. He was 18
and had beautiful blue eyes.

His best friend, our sister Jennifer, passed away in May of this year and our mother Zelma, with whom he was also very close, died in October of 2012. As he lived a very solitary life for most of the past 30 years, especially since he moved from Seattle to San Diego approximately 10 years ago, he was left with no one near to him that he was particularly close to. His only child, Sasha, was with him at the end, but she grew up on the East Coast and has her life centered there.

One of my first memories overall, and of Tim in particular, was once when he was about 2 ½, our mother had somehow left the front door open on a sunny day. Naked little Tim bolted out of the door and started waddling down the sidewalk. In many ways this “doing-it-his-way-attitude” never changed. My brother was a lot like our father Lawrence in that way, in fact, the whole family would often refer to Tim as “Little Larry”.

Tim was often loud, boisterous, teasing and fun. He was a joyful child with a lot of friends, many of whom he had stayed in contact with for most of his life. He was on the wrestling team in high School and we would often clear out the furniture in a room and wrestle, even into our 30's. I was bigger, so usually won. However, occasionally Tim would get me into a painful hold that I could not get out of and this, for him I believe, was worth all the losses.

Tim being loud, boisterous, teasing and fun with our cousin
Cheryl Middleton.

When I think back upon my relationship with Tim, I realize that we were never as intimate as brothers might be. For some reason, from the time we were little, he maintained a distance between us, seldom confiding anything and always keeping our relationship at arm’s length. We did argue quite a bit when we were young and I wasn’t always the good big brother I should have been. But, although we were never “close”, we did have a deep understanding from having grown up together and so I believe we always remained friends. Our relationship did, however, warm in the past several years.

He held many jobs including product sales rep, United Airlines Cabin Attendant, Morgan Stanley Stock Broker, real estate sales, CPA, Turbo Tax Consultant and race track usher.. He even tried his hand at owning a pizza restaurant. One strange thing was always true however, he could never abide working for someone else when they made money from his efforts. As unreasonable as this may seem, he was never able to resolve it. 

Tim had his share of oddities, and this problem with working for others was just one of them. Jennifer and I would often comment upon how Tim “always knew better” than others. He was often an enigma that we struggled to understand.

Tim was married twice. The first time to a lovely woman. Unfortunately, that relationship did not last. I never understood why, and Tim never gave much of a reason, at least not to me. His second marriage was to a complex woman with whom he had his daughter Sasha. They were also divorced after a couple of years.

Tim aged 5 in 1953

In trying to assess my feelings about my brother’s death, I feel sadness in that the “Circle of Life,” that he mentioned to me several times in the days before his death, has fully manifested itself in our lives. My parents and both of my siblings are now gone. They have already, and I will someday soon, move on to be replaced by our own children and grandchildren, as they in turn move up another rung on the generational ladder.

This is the condition of existence that we are all born into. I believe the proper way to feel about it is that "we are extremely privileged to be able to experience the gift of life and the beauty it offers”.

So, Tim, farewell. I hope you have found the place in an afterworld with Jennifer and our parents that you spoke of. Your journey here is over and the next one has begun.

Remembering my sister Jennifer-

I was told this morning that she passed away last night.

Me, our mother Zelma, Jennifer and Tim

on Mom's 75th birthday, July 16, 1991.

It was always “Jennifer”, as our mother insisted that we not call her Jen or Jenny or anything else, always Jennifer.

As I remember it-

It was either 1969 or 1970 and the family was living in Monterey Park, near Los Angeles. At 18, Jennifer had just returned from a school trip to Europe where she had felt unnaturally fatigued and had also noticed a lump on her neck. Our mother had taken her to the doctor’s for testing, and on a Friday afternoon they went back to review the results. They were told that the tests showed that Jennifer had something called “Hodgkin’s Disease”. The doctor told her that he did not know much about this condition, but that he had made an appointment for her at White Memorial Hospital the following Monday where they had specialists that could better discuss treatment options. Upon returning home from the doctor’s office that Friday, Jennifer rushed upstairs to look up the disorder in an old encyclopedia set we had. The article she found (this was before Google) described Hodgkin’s Disease as a cancer of the lymph nodes that was often fatal.

That was a long weekend for all of us.

Things, however, improved greatly when she met with the doctors at White Memorial. She was told that there had been great improvements recently in the treatment of her illness. The physicians believed that they had caught it early enough and that with cobalt treatments, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cobalt_therapy , she could expect to live close to a normal life.

What joy!!!

But this then treatment was not without consequences. While she was undergoing the therapy, she became rundown, lost weight and much of her hair (which grew back curly). Long term effects were loss of fat and muscle cells in her torso and, later, heart, lung and artery deterioration. The pain and discomfort from the latter became so acute that towards the end, life for her was no longer worth the suffering.

But she was gifted with an additional 50 years of life!

And, she made it count. Jennifer graduated from San Diego State University with a teaching degree and later picked up her masters. She decided to stay in the area and eventually our mother and brother Tim followed her there. 

Don and Jennifer at Don's Navy retirement.               

She met and married the love of her life, Don Muehlbach (who I believe told her that he would marry her the first time that they met). She had a long career as a primary school teacher, later specializing in reading development. She always had a close relationship with our brother Tim, who would show her his love by tormenting her. She also had a special relationship with my children, Tim and Kerry. The precious sweaters she knitted for their little girls will remain in the family for generations as heirlooms. She had many life-long friends, including the neighbors we grew up with. Many of these people spent time with her in the past few weeks.

Of course, her most wonderful achievement was having two children of her own, Trey and Molly. With all that radiation, having her own kids was never a certainty. And, later came her precocious granddaughter Sienna, in whom she took a special delight.

So, at 67 Jennifer died early by today’s standard, but she was able to fill the time she had with many good years and accomplishments. She was surrounded by loving family and friends to the end. Surely, she had regrets, but she was a good person who lived a valuable, full and happy life.

She was my sister and I loved her.

Charley Coy Mallon

May 30, 2019

Jennifer at 2 years old. I remember when this photo was taken in 1953. Cute, isn’t she?