Monday, March 13, 2006

RIP Larry

My mother lives in one of those "Garden Style Condominium Apartments" (that's what's on the sign out front). It's a really nice place, has a nice pool that nobody really uses, people aren't outside making all types of noise. She had a neighbor across the hall named Larry. He was a really nice guy, I talked to him a few times. (He moved in after I moved out so I didn't see him much.) He would help my mother with her groceries, he would take her garbage out. He and his girlfriend were always very friendly. My mother would sometimes cook a little extra and send food to them. When I went to my mother's house sometime last week, I think it was Thursday, she told me she hadn't seen Larry in a few days. She said she had heard rumors of someone passing away in the last few days,and we both said we hoped it wasn't Larry, he was so young. (mid to late thirties...) On Saturday my mother called me and said she had something to tell me. It was Larry, he was dead. Here is what happened:
Early last week about 1:30 in the afternoon Larry called the property management office (which is about a two or three minute walk from where his apartment is. He said these simple words "I don't feel well. Something is wrong." And he hung up. The property management got concerned, they sent someone to his apartment. No answer when they rang the buzzer. No answer when they knocked on the door. They forced the door open. And they found him. Dead. Self-inflicted gunshot wound.
My mother went shopping Saturday morning, and when she got home she noticed boxes of Larry's stuff out in the hall. "Larry, are you leaving me?" she called out. A man that wasn't Larry poked his head out into the hall. "You knew Larry?" he asked her. "Yeah, of course..." He introduced himself as Larry's brother and told her what happened. That's when she called me.
That is some scary shit, we knew this guy, he was so nice and friendly and I can't stop thinking about this. What could have been wrong? What could have been done? Did he even tell anyone the reason? We don't know of any note being left. I'm saddened that he couldn't find someone to help him. I've never known anyone that has passed away (save for my grandparents who all passed by the time I was five) and for this to happen...
I didn't know him, but we exchanged hello's. He knew I was my mother's daughter. He commented on how cute my son was. I appreciated all the things he and his girlfriend helped my mother with.
So, Larry, I'm sorry that you felt the way you did, though I don't know how that was. I'm sorry you felt that was the only way out. I do hope you are in a better place now. RIP Larry.

4 comments:

Chaotic Mom said...

Wow. That's pretty deep. Makes one think about the folks we meet, how we treat them, eh? Sorry to hear about Larry. It was nice of you to be thinking about him this way.

sweatpantsmom said...

That's a sad story, and unfortunately one that is probably so common. Maybe you can find some way to reach out to his girlfriend, who it sounds like you and your mom had a casual relationship with.

I'm sorry for your loss.

Diana said...

Am I weird if I admit I want to cry when I see obituaries? I'm too emotional! (And no I don't read obituaries for kicks)
Sweatpantsmom- we haven't seen or heard from the girlfriend. I'm concerned about how she is taking this. We don't have a number for her. I told my mother to keep an eye out for her, but so far it's just been Larry's brother cleaning the apartment...
Momma M- I'm just glad I didn't cast him as a creepy neighbor and tried to avoid him as I do with all my mother's other neighbors.

Melissa said...

Oh, I'm so sorry to read about Larry. My husband's best-friend since they were 10 (he was the best man at our wedding) committed suicide last spring.

We knew he had been battling depression for some time, and he had gotten help, but nobody knew how bad it was until he injected himself with something while at work (he was a surgeon).

It's a loss you never get over and never stop thinking/wondering about, no matter how well or how little you knew the person.