Ansel Larry Is Dead

Watching his friend Ansel Larry die was a hard lesson. But even for the uninterested Head, an education in death was a required course for his education. In a short span, he had been forced to study at close hand his brother’s death, his mother’s deteriorating health, his own knee replacement, and then his friend’s departure. Things were getting too near to Head for him to disregard the subject any longer.

It had taken over a month after Larry’s death before he could gain his footing. But that respite was just part of life; and like all non-superior Southern boys, Head had to go on telling stories. What he found when he returned to his keyboard was that his friend had left six more drafts of his journey through cancer to go with the ones already published. Before returning to his own tale, Head needed to polish his friend’s work and publish them in order.

When told of the cancer, Larry had regained his own footing by falling back on his education. He knew project management. He would organize his treatment in that vain.

 “This project is different though:  At the end, we’re not going live.” Thus sayeth the Loon at the Lake. Amen, brothers and sisters, amen.

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