In Memory of Laurence Lyon

I attended Laurence Lyons' funeral on Tuesday. It was one of the more interesting funerals I have been to. Laurence was a devoted husband and father, a talented musician and composer, and a well-versed LDS scholar. And I learned that his family called him "Laury," which I found surprising because he seemed so formal to me.

There was a lot of music, including several pieces that he had written. We sang one of his hymns. And there was a duet, and a string ensemble and a recording of a choir. It was all very appropriate, given the role music played in his life and heritage.

Sam and I have been home teaching Laurence and Donna for six months. He had been in and out of the hospital quite a bit over the past six weeks. We were by there about a month ago and I sensed a real change in him. He had softened (not that he was ever nasty, just a bit stiff, and perhaps judgmental). But I saw in his demeanor that he had experienced a change, and it occured to me that he was now seeing life from an eternal perspective. As we left the house, I commented that he was acting like a man who didn't have long to live. It was the same when Sam and I visited with them again a week later. He was positively chatty, which was unusual. (When I set up my first appointment, he said he'd like a 20-minute visit, with a lesson, and not much "chit-chat.")

I will remember him mostly by his impish grin, which came from the inside out, and genuinely reflected the pure delight of something he found clever or amusing. It was a boyish smile, and I delighted to see it. At the funeral, his brother described his sense of humor as "Puckish," and hearing that, the pieces fit together.

A great quote from the funeral, from his daughter. She said that as her father got older, he found household fix-it projects to take much more time and energy than previously. As a result, he had resolved to: "Never do anything for the first time." I wish I had said that.

I like funerals. There is such a sweet outpouring of emotions. And what a wonderful cultural tradition to gather together to learn of the best of people and to reflect on our fondest memories. It was good to know Laurence in life, and good as well to know him in death.