Lari Teresa

 The following is what my sister, Teresa, wrote for Daddy's Memorial Service. And since I knew her when she was younger, I still call her Teresa.

How do I do this?  How do I put into words what my dad means to me?  Words can’t possibly convey all the intricacies of our relationship.

I was named after my dad.  Larry.  Who names a girl Lari?  I really hated having a boy’s name when I was growing up.  I couldn’t understand why my parents did that to me. I used my middle name when I was younger.  After I graduated from high school, I starting using the name Lari because I liked being unique. But as I get older I understand why my parents gave me that name.  My dad gives meaning to my name.  He’s the reason I’m proud to be named Lari.  My husband and I gave our oldest son the middle name of Lawrence in honor of my dad.  He reminds me of my dad.  He’s a strong, honorable man. 

I’m not sure how my dad survived living with 5 women.  It was usually loud and emotional.  But somehow he supported us all.  I never appreciated the pressure he must have felt being the sole support for a family of six until I had a family of my own. 

I remember lots of weekends spent at the lake water skiing or just playing in the water.  He taught us all how to water ski.  He spent hours driving the boat pulling one or the other of us on skis or the boogie board he built for us to ride on.  Sometimes the trip there and back was an adventure in and of itself.  There was the time the car almost didn’t make it a big hill.  By the time we got to the top we were only going about 10mph.  We had a flat tire on the boat trailer, got the car stuck in a small ravine where we were camping, and frequently had difficulty getting the boat back on the trailer and out of the water.  But I don’t remember him ever letting those problems beat him.  That may have been the best lesson he taught me.  You just put your head down and keep moving forward to fix the problem. 

I used to love going to visit his office, especially when he worked at IBM.  They always had some cool machine for us to play with.  He took us down there one day to let us play with this new machine called an ATM.  It was a prototype that issued play money.  I don’t know how long we stayed there getting money out of that ATM.  Too bad it wasn’t real money.

I was listening to George Strait while I was driving back to St. Louis after telling him goodbye a couple of weeks ago and one of my favorite songs came on.  It’s a song about how Dads love their children no matter what.  “Daddies don’t just love their children every now and then.  It’s a love without end.”  It was so true with him.  He could be mad or disappointed with us but we always knew he loved us. 

The world feels colder, darker and less safe now.  I wish he was still fighting but I know he was so tired of being sick.  He hated being sick.  He loved life.  I love you and miss you Dad.  I hope you’re up there somewhere playing with Sam. 

 The world does indeed feel colder, darker, and less safe now. And Sam was Daddy's dog.