On December 2nd, 2019, my grandfather Lawrence A. Dysart Jr. lost his long battle with cancer. He managed with it for a good awhile, but it resurged earlier this year. He went peacefully at home with his loving family surrounding him.
My Grampy was one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. A doctor of mathematics, he always had a math factoid or interesting anecdote to share. His favorite was a quip to do with topology: “You can’t comb every hair on a coconut.” I think he was proud to hear that I’d decided to pursue a second major in math, since he had new math stories to tell me every year at Christmas.
For all that, he was never arrogant with me, a trap so many well-educated people fall into by accident. He had a teacher’s love of imparting knowledge in a way that fostered excitement for learning. Not once have I seen Grampy trot out his intellect to brag, though he could have done so with ease.
At his funeral and wake this past weekend, we heard of his tremendous influence on so many lives—students and colleagues alike—and his dedication to bettering his community. Even with such accomplishment behind him, he was humble. An unassuming giant who, like his father before him, lived out the words “love thy neighbor.” I’m so glad that so many people knew and loved Grampy.
We were left with a beautiful notion at his service: “grief is the price of loving much.” I know that there are many who are left to grieve him, but to adapt the Transitive Property, that just proves that there are many who loved him much. QED.
Thanks for reading,
Andrew
Comments