Uncle Layne a Man of Joy

As a child I remember waiting for Layne, more like longing for Layne. We would make the 8-hour drive with my mom at least once a year to Bellingham to see her side of the family. I have many good memories of times spent with cousins and learning art at the hand of Grandad. But I remember longing for Layne. I couldn’t wait for the moments when he would come exploding through the door similar to Kramer but with much more presence. He filled the doorframe, his shoulders touching both sides and his arms and smile spread as wide as the threshold. He loved us dearly. Once Layne came, the day was going to be filled with joy, that is why I longed for him. Time in the park, I can still remember one summer day turning a wading pool into a swimming pool. Fully clothed my sister, Layne, and I started to play a guess which animal I am game. Layne laid on his back in the water touching his fingers to his toes and as his arms moved apart from his legs he spit water between his hands and his feet. “I’m a clam!” He laughed and shook the park with his Joy.

As I got older I got the amazing opportunity to spend nights with Layne. I didn’t have to just long for a couple of hours with this Uncle of joy I got to spend entire days and nights with him. Sleeping in the rafters of an unfinished attic, telling stories, and listening to music. I could share all of my music and he would listen to it all. Not just listen to it, dance to it, move to it, live to it. Trips to Old Fairhaven, record stores, and great breakfasts would follow. Layne was a man of joy for a young boy to look up to and long to be like. The way he loved, inspired love. I remember as a teenager attending his wedding and meeting a sweet blond. The love and joy of the wedding was infectious and inspiring and nostalgic.

As an adult, I came to see other sides to Layne, which I had not understood as a child. I saw the disappointments when joy was not found. But Layne was still a man chasing joy over and over again. He was never content to be without joy, never wanted a part of his life to be without the passion that joy brings. And the truth is, I still longed for Layne, to share in his time and in his heart. We began to share heart and mind as we spoke poetry and played music together until wee hours in the morning. We began to engage the questions of life and the universe, ever expanding possibilities, ever possible for joy.

The last time I saw Layne we shared a meal with family, we remembered Grandad, we spoke of God, angels, and the universe. And then we shared the life and joy that is music one last time. My hands strumming the guitar as he gave breathe to the harmonica. The whole house filled with Joy and when we said goodbye I was swallowed in the arms of joy from the largest man I have ever hugged. I long for you still Layne…and I pray that I might honor your memory by living with greater joy for my daughter, my wife, and my community as you did. Rest in peace my dear Uncle and Friend.