I received some unwelcome news a couple of days ago. A friend passed away. Some may think I am taking some liberties by calling Larry a friend, because I did not know him well, I did not see him often, and I had not maintained a close relationship with him. That being said, in my eyes, he was a kind, sincere man that had the enviable gift of making a person feel comfortable with him. I may have had the pleasure of his company for half a dozen times over the years, but those times were memorable.
Larry was the eldest of four brothers, and one of the brothers is married to my best friend. I am attracted to people with a strong sense of family, a good sense of humor, and an enthusiastic attitude toward life, and Larry possessed all of these.
He loved his coffee in the morning and when we would travel to Mohegan Sun in Connecticut for an annual combination birthday celebration for the brothers four, Larry was a one man coffee brigade. He could be heard marching up and down the hallways banging on our doors delivering freshly brewed coffee to any one awake at zero dark thirty. A quick breakfast would follow, and then off to the tables for some gambling.
Being the only smokers left in the group, Larry and I became adept at slipping away after dinner to grab a smoke. This past February, we found a spot by the fountain at Tuscany’s, lit ’em up and engaged in a prophetic discussion of our nasty habits. Our observations of the crusade to obliterate what we considered to be enjoyable and legal were similar. One thing led to another and we eventually embarked on a conversation about death.
I shot my mouth off about my preplanned funeral, we had a few laughs about wakes and then Larry said, “I’m a happy man. If I died tomorrow, I would die happy.” He added, “I’d still like to hit the big one.” The rest of the group joined us and we all set out in search of “the big one”.
Larry wasn’t well at “Zee Wedding”, but once again we both left the reception after dinner to retire to our smoking section. He looked a little wistful from time to time, but was upbeat about his treatments and said the biggest pain he had was his doctor telling him to quit smoking. His attitude was acceptance of whatever destiny had in store, and gratitude for the blessings that had been bestowed upon him. He was also having fun eyeballing the young lady in the low cut dress.
I thought a lot about Larry from then on, said a lot of prayers, and was happy to know he was in the capable hands of his family and loved ones during this time. To his family, especially the brothers, now three, I offer my heartfelt condolences. You have a great loss to recover from, but you have his spirit to help you through. To you Larry, I thank you for the memories, the great laughs, the coffee and conversation, and wait….where’s my lighter?…..ahhhhh, this one’s for you. Godspeed, my friend.
