Lane Leroy Carroll II, who was for all intents and purposes my Father died on Friday evening 2/20/2009 after battling with that complete bitch also known as Cancer. On this day the world lost one of the last “Good Guys.”
Lane was many things… He was a loving Husband, a Father, a Papa, a Son, and a Brother. He was an athlete, an Old Pro, a beer drinker. He was wicked smart and would explain a subject to death if you asked his direction. You just might end up with the formula to make an atom bomb by simply asking tax advice. He was kind. He seemed quiet to those who did not know him well. He was also funny, sort of sarcastic, and occasionally perverse in his humor. He was a prude and embarrassed easily, he did not like to be fussed over. He was Lovey, and Grumbly all at the same time. He was selectively deaf in both ears; he was fuzzy and growly. Sometimes I joked and called him Chewbacca because when he did yell he sounded just like that big Wooky – the fuzz only added to the comparison. He was athletic, competitive and liked to give the young guys a run for their money on the soccer field. He regularly violated Mom’s “Prime Directive” which was not to get hurt on the field. His knees were often bloody and scraped up from playing hard. – He was ours.
There was this joke that Lane had married my Mother for her Chocolate Mousse. Really he married her because he was thoroughly in love with her and would walk the ends of the earth if she only asked. That kind of love is rare. My Mom tells a great story about Lane watching us kiddos while she was out on what must have been a horrible date and asking her if she was done kissing frogs. He then leaned over and gave her a great big smooch; indeed she had kissed her last frog and found herself a Prince. They spent 25 years together and only really ever bickered about Honey Do’s. I try to model my marriage after theirs. I have never known 2 people who loved each other that much. I am grateful I got to be a witness to it.
Lane was a good Dad to us kids. He was our Laney and later he became Papa to our girls. Lane taught me to tie my shoes and ride a bike. He showed up for school stuff and bought the bulk of my Girl Scout Cookies. He watched Fraggle Rock & the Muppet Show religiously with me and took me for Donut Holes on Mondays. He occasionally growled but really only if we were giving Mom a hard time. He was her champion and while he would put up with quite a bit directed towards him, there would be no disrespect to her – that was that. He was home; he was a part of the furniture of our life. He stood in the background like this solid wood beam always holding everything up. As I grew and did the foolish things young women sometimes do; I could come home tail firmly tucked, head hung low… there was no judgment, no “I told you so” just a warm safe place to land and a hug or maybe two.
Lane loved his Grandgirls. He spoke to them gently and like they were 40 years old. He and my Morrigan especially had a very cool friendship. They were dessert buddies and they had a lot of fun together. Towards the end of his life, Morrigan said to me “Papa is just not the same since he cut off his hair.” So true… if only cancer, then radiation and chemo had not jumped in to our lives, our Papa would be just the same and he would be here to share a dove bar and explain the world to her once more. Our youngest daughter Charlotte Lane is named for him. She is too young to know Papa but I know we will tell her Papa stories as she grows and she will know that he loved her too and as Morrigan pointed out… as long as we have Charlotte, we still have Papa.
Papa, you are missed, you are loved and you will never be forgotten.
So, so sorry for loss.
beautiful. Oh, my!