Tuesdays with Larry

I don’t often talk much about my family. I’ve on occasion told stories involving my mother and father, my aunt with the cats and the late-grandmother that lived with her, and even on occasion my brother (whose wedding is only about a month away). There is one small branch of my family, though, about which I have not discussed much, and the simple reason for that fact is that, unlike the rest of us, they seem completely normal.

The little nuclear family from which I come is fairly unusual. The household of my aunt and late-grandmother was a bit on the dysfunctional side. I have my own problems to deal with. But this little household seems straightforwardly congenial and sane. I’m talking about my aunt and uncle.

My father has two sisters. The younger of his two sisters is the aunt who lived with my grandmother. The older of his two sisters, though, lives a fairly normal life outside of Kansas City, where she was an art teacher for many years before retiring. She married a wonderful man who was a local school principal (and English teacher). They were named as Godparents for my brother and I and standing arrangements were made for them to adopt my brother and I should anything terrible happen to my parents.

My aunt, Marsha, and her husband, Larry, are good people. They live comfortably and well, have a nicely decorated home, many fine friends, and now that they are retired, spend much of their time traveling around the United States.

Of the two of them, I’ve always liked Larry more. It’s probably an awful thing for me to do… I mean, who ranks how much they like the members of their family? However mean it is for me to rank people that way, it is true. Larry is the kind of guy that I always saw myself as being, and is a role model for the kind of guy that I’d like to be. Maybe it was that he was living my secret wish (to be a high school teacher/administrator). Perhaps it was because he was generous with his money (he gave lavish gifts to my brother and I, including a $1000 check upon my graduation from KU). Perhaps it was because of his genuine interest in education and the fruits of learning (he established an annual scholarship and took the time to read the application essays carefully). Whatever the reasons, Larry established himself as my image of the kind of man I would like to become.

I really like spending time with him, and when we get together as a family (for Christmas or Thanksgiving or something) he is the only one at the gatherings with whom I can have actual conversations about the things I care about. It is a family tradition (one I’m not too fond of, actually) to put together a puzzle on Thanksgiving on the dining room table. While almost all of our small family did this this past year, Larry and I retired to the living room and spent about 5 hours discussing American education policy, the integration of technology with biology, politics, current events, and ethical issues. It was one of the most engaging talks I’ve had in a long time.

Larry was diagnosed with advanced stage-2 liver cancer a few days back, and the doctors said it is a cancer that has metastasized from somewhere else in his body (they don’t know where yet).

It is a hard thing to bear to see your role model laid low in what might be the final few months or years of his life. I’m not sure how to deal with this yet. As you can probably tell from the tenor and structure of this post, my mind is confused and disconnected right now, so I’m afraid that my silence will continue for a bit longer.