Lar

1954

Growing up we had a bunch of names, my brother and I. He was Little Lar, Larry, Jr. or worse depending on my father’s mood. I was James, Jaime, or Jay, but most of the time, Worm (yeah, thanks Dad, OK so I had a hard time sitting still.) The two people most responsible for the multiple monikers are gone. It’s just the two of us.

Sometimes Lar and I talk about growing up. We swap memories. No elbows on the table. Mom’s unique culinary skills. Dad. Funny though, some of the stuff Lar holds onto I missed altogether. And, some of my most vivid memories were forged after he was gone. Being five years older, I was 13 when he left for college.

That’s funny, too. Despite the fact that he was born in ’49 and I in ’54, he has convinced himself that we are but four years removed (thanks to birth dates that overlap by two months). I am so tired of hearing his convoluted logic that on some level I think he’s right. (Wait, 54-49=5, right? It does. Right?)

Mom has been gone since 1999. Dad died in ’08. There are no words to describe what that means or even feels like inside. Either you know what I mean or dread finding out. Not that Lar and I weren’t close before they left, but since then it’s different. For reasons that are hard to express, before I left for Europe in January I wanted to say goodbye to him in person. So, I went home. On a very real level, Baltimore shall remain home. It’s where I was born. It’s where I grew up. It’s where I met my wife, and it’s where she and I reared our children. Lar even lives in my house on Back River.

I hesitate to speak for Lar, but I sense he would agree with me on a number of things (unlike my teenage years when I knew everything). We came from the same place. We knew the same things. We are the same guy. I like that. That’s part of why I wanted to see him one more time before I left.

1954 - 1949 = 4 (according to some)

Our three-day visit was spent talking and eating, gambling and laughing. He’s generous that way. He gives to me the things he enjoys. The most widely traveled guy I know, he tells me he’s not going to visit me in Holland. Uh-huh. I can’t wait to introduce Little Lar to all my new acquaintances in the Netherlands.