I’m sitting in my office trying to think of how I want to phrase this post, because it’s one of those important times when eloquence means something. I got home last night after spending the last five days in Columbus, Ohio, where I had intended on spending a few days with my friend Lars.
As many of you already know, Lars has been battling Leukemia for the past several months and was most recently in Houston, Texas at a cancer research facility that was affiliated to the University of Texas. Lars and his wife Monica received news the weekend before last that the hospital has exhausted all medical options available to fight the Leukemia.
They decided to return to their home in Columbus, where they could be near family and friends. I spoke to his brother Nels on Wednesday to try and figure out how much time he had left, but there was no way to tell. I phoned a few friends to let them know that Lars’ condition had deteriorated, so we agreed to book flights out to Ohio to pay one last visit.
Monica chartered a medical transport plane that could accommodate Lars and his needs on the long flight back to Ohio. In transit, the plane ran out of the oxygen that Lars needed, so they were forced to make an emergency landing along the way. After continuing their trip home, the place ran out of fuel and had to make another unscheduled stop.
They arrived in Columbus in the early hours of June 6th and made their way to the local hospital in Columbus, where Lars would be until Thursday. Nels and his sister Sena made the trek to Ohio on Thursday, and relayed the news that they were moving him home later that day.
I got the call from Nels that we all hoped would never come on Thursday night around 8pm Pacific time. Lars’ fight had ended peacefully at his home with Monica, Nels, Sena, and Monica’s parents by his bed side.
Our mutual friends Andy Anderson and Mike Woodward had joined me in booking flights out to Ohio, so after a brief consultation with them all agreed that we all needed to be there. We flew out on Friday and stopped by Lars & Monica house to say hi and see how she was doing. For me, what started as a show of support, turned into an opportunity for me to bring some closure to Lars’ illness. I got to see the place he and Monica called home, complete with his own subtle touches (albeit mostly in the basement!). Andy was able to get in touch with another friend of ours, Anthony Rivera, who joined us on Saturday.
I got the sense that his house was truly his home, and that it was the place that he found the most comfort in his life. I suspect that Monica’s family had a lot to do with that as well. There was stability and sense of family. It was something that he longed for in his life, and he had finally found it.
Why he chose to live in a place like Ohio, rather than California always confused me. It didn’t dawn on me until this trip that it wasn’t the place that lured him, but rather the people. I should have known better. Through all the time I knew him, he was never about “things”.
Over the course of the next five days, we spent time with Monica and her family, while trying not to be too big a burden. She’s a remarkable woman, who has dedicated the past two years of her life fighting Lars first bout with cancer and finally the Leukemia. Through all of it, I never heard her utter a single complaint.
When I visited him in Houston back in March, I told him that he was a lucky man to have such unconditional support from his wife. He simply responded “I know”, then began to cry. Through all the raw deals he endured in his life, that mention of his wife was the only time I had ever seen him cry in the 23 years that I knew him.
She asked that Me, Nels, Woody, Andy or Anthony speak at the viewing on Monday night, to which we all cringed. We all had the same fear. It wasn’t that we didn’t have anything to say, we all feared breaking down while trying to present the message. She remedied that in a way that would have made Lars proud.
“If I have to get up there and speak at my own husband’s funeral because you guys didn’t want to speak, I’ll be sure to point out that you were the five assholes that forced me to do it because you didn’t have the guts to!,” she volleyed in grand Larsen style.
Simple, yet effective.
We all laughed and promised her that we would figure out something. That something would be Nels, me and Anthony all saying something briefly on Monday night in front of a packed funeral home. Nels read from a eulogy he prepared the night before. I followed him and promptly botched it all up by choking up in the middle of a story about our days in college and “not sweating the little things”. Anthony finished strong with two stories from his high school days with Lars, which included 2 tons of sand and Lars in the middle of it all.
Monica would tell me later that my choke job was “well timed and that it really got the crowd going”. Another playful jab, that her husband would have been proud of.
After a Catholic mass at St Patrick Church on Wednesday morning, we made the long procession to the cemetery where Lars would finally be laid to rest. We said goodbye with the sun shining on us like so many of those California summer days that we shared in our youth. He was home.
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