Larry

The stuff on the shelves had changed, but the feeling I had in that room was the same.

By now you might have heard that my youngest brother, Larry, has passed away. Some would say he lost his battle with COPD; but actually he won. Larry is with Mom and Dad; trying to coax Mom to get on the back of a Harley.

I have lost enough moisture through my tears; my skin looks like an alligator purse. I wish I could tell you I am done crying, but that would be a lie.

We don't lie here at Monner's Mumblings. The stories are true. If the story makes us laugh, we laugh. If the story makes us cry, we cry.

I mentioned in previous stories, Larry loved drag racing. I think I might have pushed him into loving racing. I don't have the love for cars that Larry had. (I like working with wood, not cars.) Larry and I were "opposites attract". I could always call Larry when I was having car problems and ask, "Hey, what do you think is wrong with this (construction language) thing?" He could always call me and ask, "Hey, why don't you wash that (construction language) thing?"

A favorite story of Larry's was when I was his Little League baseball coach. Yes, I am that much older than Larry. Larry's version of the story is I held him to higher standard than I did the rest of the team. My version is; I wanted him to be great. Larry loved to remind me, "I loved playing baseball until you were my coach!" I would reply, "Ah, I just was trying to make Mom and Dad proud of you!"

Me: Larry, keep your mitt on the ground and you will keep the ball from going between your legs.

Larry: Yeah, yeah, yeah!