Larry Rehak, rest your soul
We’ve lost someone we knew and cared about Thursday, June 22 when H’s Uncle Larry deemed it necessary to take his life. This was a guy I’d spent some time with in the very important 17 years I’ve known her and her family. I’ll remember Larry fondly, as a guy with this quietly acerbic wit, razor sharp actually. He had this great affectation, and carried himself with a specific dignity. I base my opinion of folks on how they treat me, firstly. And that guy was always right-on with me, always treated me with respect (despite, in the early days, I did nothing to earn it) and made it easy to be around him. He was fucking funny as hell, in the few times per year I was in his company.
H and I would infrequently go to Ann Arbor to visit, meeting him at his studio downtown and then later for lunch. He was a clothing designer and had quite a reputation in that community. I remember going into his studio for the first time and being kind of wowed by the designs and tools of his craft all about. It was interestingly weird, being in a fashion designer’s studio, especially when you dress like a slob like I do. But Larry never vibed me about any of that and I took an immediate liking to him. Plus, he was one of my best friend’s uncles and the brother to Fred, a man I’ve admired and respected for all of these years, sort of quasi-detached, surrogate parent to me with his wife, Diane. H is very much like a sister to me. Shit, she is a sister to me. We broke that plane years ago and now her/our family is blasted with this shitty news of his death.
People tend to say glowing things about those who’ve passed, and Larry kind of epitomized that. Granted, I didn’t know him really well. And in these 17 years, I’ve probably been in the same room with him maybe 20 or 30 times. But it still burns a few layers into your psyche to see the people you care about reeling from such a shocking turn of events. Larry was troubled, there is no doubt about that. And the depression he duked it out with for years apparently started landing some crushing blows. What’s worrisome, I think, is speculation on how bad it must’ve been in the last two years, how dark and brutal it was in that hell his mind created, that constant din of pain of misery, the fucking hopelessness you just can’t shake, despite all of the help and medication, friends with support, and kind words. I can’t understand it and I won’t even try. Today, H and her family are emptying out his apartment and on Saturday I’m helping Fred and Larry’s brother Pat empty out his studio. This is an activity that is never easy but is a critical moment in the process that commences healing, believe me, I speak from experience. At the very core of my sadness is the view I’m getting of those really close to him and watching their ache. I hope everyone blows by this with the quickness.
H and I would infrequently go to Ann Arbor to visit, meeting him at his studio downtown and then later for lunch. He was a clothing designer and had quite a reputation in that community. I remember going into his studio for the first time and being kind of wowed by the designs and tools of his craft all about. It was interestingly weird, being in a fashion designer’s studio, especially when you dress like a slob like I do. But Larry never vibed me about any of that and I took an immediate liking to him. Plus, he was one of my best friend’s uncles and the brother to Fred, a man I’ve admired and respected for all of these years, sort of quasi-detached, surrogate parent to me with his wife, Diane. H is very much like a sister to me. Shit, she is a sister to me. We broke that plane years ago and now her/our family is blasted with this shitty news of his death.
People tend to say glowing things about those who’ve passed, and Larry kind of epitomized that. Granted, I didn’t know him really well. And in these 17 years, I’ve probably been in the same room with him maybe 20 or 30 times. But it still burns a few layers into your psyche to see the people you care about reeling from such a shocking turn of events. Larry was troubled, there is no doubt about that. And the depression he duked it out with for years apparently started landing some crushing blows. What’s worrisome, I think, is speculation on how bad it must’ve been in the last two years, how dark and brutal it was in that hell his mind created, that constant din of pain of misery, the fucking hopelessness you just can’t shake, despite all of the help and medication, friends with support, and kind words. I can’t understand it and I won’t even try. Today, H and her family are emptying out his apartment and on Saturday I’m helping Fred and Larry’s brother Pat empty out his studio. This is an activity that is never easy but is a critical moment in the process that commences healing, believe me, I speak from experience. At the very core of my sadness is the view I’m getting of those really close to him and watching their ache. I hope everyone blows by this with the quickness.
posted by John at 6:34 AM
2 Comments:
I'm sorry for your loss, John. It helps to have as many people around as possible - as this is the heaviest burden there is.
Thank you John for your post about Larry. He was my first cousin and a childhood playmate. No one in the family knew that he had passed away until today. My elderly aunt told me and my sisters when we visited her today. When I got home I searched the internet for information and found you blog. Thanks again for the messeage.
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