Beth Lapin

18 June 2017

My 92 year-old Uncle Larry has passed away — it is sad, the end of an era, but he went peacefully. Their home was always open for me, my second home. Uncle Larry was a voice of reason, an understanding listener, an engaging story-teller, and a goofball.

We won’t have any new Uncle Larry memories, but his stories will live on.  Who can forget how he’d get lost on the way back from the bathroom or empty the dishwasher in the middle of the night, or goad Auntie Ruthie just to get a rise out of her (and she did rise to the occasion)?

Who could forget when he split his pants in the middle to Plant Street, as he rushed around gathering receipts from Youth Colony that he’d left on the top of the car when he drove off? Or when he had words of wisdom, looking at Ori’s newborn feet or always asked for Ori when I’d come to visit alone?

Who could forget when he drove so close to the telephone pole on Pequot Avenue that I had to pull in my right arm resting on the window and jerk the steering wheel towards the center of the road? Or when Kay stopped college for awhile and he said, “Well, there’s no point in going if she doesn’t want to,” without judgement or criticism.  Or when you’d hear that certain tone of voice, “Lah” from Aunt Rivie and you knew he was in trouble and his eyebrows would rise and his bottom lip would push forward and he had a special twinkle in his eye. When she called him “Lawrence,” we knew he was really in trouble.

After Aunt Rivie died, Uncle Larry was well cared for by our families and friends. He was able to enjoy many aspects of life including time in his home, events with family, and trips to the beach.

We will miss the new memories, we will cherish the old ones. We all loved Uncle Larry and he loved all of us. He made us laugh and feel good about ourselves.

We know that Aunt Rivie and Uncle Larry are now cruising around again together, and they aren’t worrying about a crackdown!

And what does this mean to me? I inch closer to being an Elder, a role I feel incompetent to take. More places remind me of the past, than the present or future. But we have three new babies coming in the family, a poignant reminder that life is a cycle and goes on. That I can grab with gusto. Life is for the living.