Lavay

Lavay was perhaps more like a young uncle than my first cousin since he was only six years my mother's junior. He was older than my Uncle Jack, Daddy's brother. But then Jack was only a year older than my eldest sister, so there you go. Anyway, this kind man has been a part of my life for all of my 74 years. 

Lavay was such a blessing to me for all those years but especially so during the time of my Mother's stroke and death last summer. His prayers for Mother were so sincere and kind and soothing to my troubled soul during that time. 

Mother loved Lavay like a little brother. Occasionally I'd put my phone on speaker and telephone him when I visited with her so we could both talk to him. He and she always enjoyed telling family stories.

I suppose Lavay was our last direct link to the earthly Wilson Baird (Papa), my grandfather, who died before any of the we remaining cousins were born.

Here he is, with my mother, standing in front of my grandmother's house in Porterdale Georgia. 

Otis Lavay McCullough had a very rough start to life. His young father was murdered when Lavay was just a baby. He contracted polio as a toddler and spent the rest of his life with a pronounced limp. But he was bright and determined and principled and kind. When he died at 93 yesterday, he was still that same bright, determined, principled, and kind guy I knew in the fifties. I sure will miss him. 

Here's the online obituary and funeral information.

I'll write more about Lavay, but for tonight I'll just share some of the pictures I have of him.