Tom Gonzalez

Today, we gather not only to mourn the loss of our beloved Uncle Tom, but to celebrate the life of a man who brought laughter, comfort, and flavor into every room he entered. Tom Gonzalez, born on June 30, 1967, passed away on June 10, 2025.

Uncle Tom—never Thomas, unless he was in trouble—was a man who lived life in his own unique rhythm. He was full of lighthearted humor, often leaving us laughing with his unfiltered one-liners, the kind that made you pause and think, “Did he really just say that?” But that was Uncle Tom—unapologetically himself, and always bringing a smile to our faces.

He had a love for animals that ran deep, especially for his loyal dogs, Bear and Casper. They weren’t just pets—they were family, constant companions who mirrored the loyalty and quiet affection he gave to those he cared for most.

As a child, Uncle Tom was a collector of what he proudly called his “treasures”—odds and ends he’d stuff in his pockets, little reflections of his curiosity and appreciation for the small things. That same spirit followed him into adulthood. He found beauty and meaning in Native American art, proudly decorating his room with it and often wearing it on a favorite t-shirt. It wasn’t just decoration—it was part of his identity, something he connected with deeply.

And oh, how he loved to cook. Uncle Tom had a way of feeding not just your stomach, but your soul. Whether it was one of his signature sausage pizzas, those famously garlicky pork chops, or enjoying his personal favorites—chicken mole and chicken enchiladas—he believed good food was meant to be shared. If you were lucky enough to be around during one of his cooking sprees, you left full and happy. And of course, no meal was complete without a cold can of Squirt or a glass of iced pink lemonade—his favorite.

Uncle Tom wasn’t one to talk much about his feelings, but he showed his love in quiet, meaningful ways. He was devoted to his mother, close to his sister and brother, and deeply cared for all his nieces, nephews, and even his grand-nieces and nephews. He showed up. He spent time. And that was his love language—quality time. Sitting for hours, watching movies, just being there. He didn’t need grand gestures. His presence was the gift.

He had a movie collection of over 300 titles—not because he wanted to watch them alone, but because he wanted to share them with us. He was the kind of uncle who made the ordinary feel special. A movie night with Uncle Tom wasn’t just a pastime—it was a cherished tradition.

So today, as we say goodbye, we hold close the memories: the laughter, the quiet companionship, the delicious meals, and the unexpected jokes. We honor a man who didn’t need to be loud to be heard, whose actions spoke volumes, and whose love was felt in the most genuine, humble ways.

Rest easy, Uncle Tom. Thank you for the joy, the warmth, the food, and the love. We will miss you deeply—but we will carry your light with us, always.

Visitation at Lakewood Chapel Arlington Heights Wednesday 6/18/2025, 11am-12:30pm. Prayer, song, and family speech from 12:30pm-1pm.