“Perry Lanphear”

Very early Tuesday morning, a wonderful man, friend and brother succumbed to old age and human nature. Perry Lanphear was about 80 years old, and had lived without any functional kidneys for a long time. I truly believe that everyone who knew Perry saw him as the "strong, silent type," and a true Yankee. He was also one of the smartest and wisest people I've ever known. I'm tempted to say that we — his friends, family, and ecclesia — are the worse for his loss, but the truth is that what he gave us over the years so completely eclipses his loss that there's no fair comparison.

There were so many things about "Uncle Perry" that I hope are never forgotten. His sometimes subtle (and sometimes not subtle at all) yet hilarious sense of humor; his love for his children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren; his generosity; his amazing humility; that awesome yet rarely used Voice of Authority.

Perry endured (in a sense that some will comprehend, but not all), right to the very last moment. Just saying that makes me so proud I get choked up. Just days before he died, he was there with us, celebrating Mandi's and Ben's new life together. And though he must have been exhausted and worn thin, he was there again around the table with us just a day later.

Everyone has a story about Perry, a reason to remember, something to hold onto. No one in my own family will ever forget the kindnesses he showed us when we all first moved to Rhode Island from New Hampshire, in 1991.

Sleep now, Brother. Your life remains an inspiring example to everyone who knew you. Better things — better than even your deep mind ever imagined — now await.