If  you don’t know who I am, I will proudly introduce myself. My name is Lauren Danielle Strickland. My Dad called me Norn or Nornie. I am Lawrence Michaels Strickland’s, second born child. My Mom tells me that I was named after a character that she liked in a book but I’ve always believed I was named Lauren in honor of my Dad just incase he didn’t have sons, fortunately he had two.

 My Dad was born February 21, 1960. He was a son, a brother, a friend, a cousin, a husband, an uncle, a father of four, and grandfather of 3 girls. His kids and grandkids meant everything to him. To him we were his greatest accomplishments. My Dad dedicated most of his adult life providing for his family. He understood how important it was for our Mom to stay home with us. When we were kids my Dad would ask my Mom to make special trips to his work to either meet him for lunch or to drop something off. I knew he’d ask my Mom to make these trips because seeing us made sitting in four hours of bumper to bumper traffic on the 91 freeway worth it.  Visiting my Dad gave him an opportunity to show us all off. We’d get a tour of the store every time we’d visit. He’d take us into the employee only areas and sometimes to areas employees weren’t allowed. My Dad lived by his own rules. He made sure we met everyone in the store (employees, customers, delivery guys/gals EVERYONE!)  He’d tell them all about how beautiful and talented we all were even if they’ve heard it 1000 times before. You’d think over time his excitement and admiration for us would fade but it never did. My Dad was so proud of his family. He made me feel so important.

He loved all his kids equally but loved us all differently. For those of you who know me, know that my Dad was my world growing up. Whenever I was sick he never left my side. When I was sad he knew how to make me happy.  He taught me patience even though he had none and that hard work pays off.

My Dad had so many special talents! Besides being the best meat manager and butcher in the world one of my favorites was the way he could swallow his tounge. I remember having a birthday party, I think I could have been turning 10. Before my party I told all the kids in my class that my Dad could swallow his tounge. No one believed me. When I told my Dad that no one believed me he made sure to make believers out of them. At my party he swallowed his tounge and juggled at the same time. I thought my Dad had super powers. I wanted to be just like him. I wanted to be so much like him that I even ate the strange things that he ate. He got me to like pigs feet, sardine and cow tounge! Id do anything for him. We’d sit for hours in the kitchen talking about everything under the sun. I never had to filter anything with my Dad and although at times he probably should have with me he never did either. He always made me feel like an equal. I only got the raw truth from him. Growing up, we’d listen to Luther Vandross, the Doors, Tom Leykis and Howard Stern almost every night. If a good beat came on he’d burst into song, never knowing the lyrics he’d make up his own and sing for hours. He’d crack me up! His preacher impression was another talent that I never got enough of. The way he’d shout out verses from the bible would bring me to my knees with laughter.  If you never experienced this you defiantly missed out. He should have been an actor. My Dad was hilarious!

He taught me so much about the stars, life, love and men.  Thanks to my Dad I know how important the bond between a father and a daughter is. I grew up respecting myself, I grew up proud.  

Although my Dad was taken from us at a very young age he made me feel like he was ready. My Dad sensed he was getting sick long before he knew. He’d tell me things in conversation that at first I thought were negative or pessimistic but now looking back on those times and conversations, I feel that he was coming to peace with things in his life. He was letting me know he was okay.

A year before he found out he was sick he sent me a song to listen to “Father and Son” by Cat Stevens. I find comfort in knowing my Dad may have been young in age but his soul was old and his body was ready, he is happy and now free from the restraints of this life. I will forever be grateful, appreciative and proud that Lawrence Michael Strickland is my Dad.  May he rest in peace and his spirit remain free.

What i did the day Larry was born.  Polished our wood floors in honor of his birth.  Went to car dealers with his Father in and out of cars.  At around 9:00 pm his Grandma Strickland and her Sister Aunt Betty stopped by after work.  We were sitting at the kitchen table talking.  They said i was not going to have a baby that night because i was not in enough pain.  Everytime i had a pain i would turn my head away from them.  They left and told me to go for a walk.  So I did I was 20 at the time.  After walking around the house my water broke and i told his Father we better leave for the hospital.  They use to prep women before having the baby they had no time.  He was born shortly after i arrived at the hospital.  The easiest most wonderful birth any woman could ask for.  We named him after his Father Lawrence and Michael after my Grandfathers.  

Larrys Greatgrandmother Kirigin was quite smitten with him.  She use to call him in her room and sneak him a carmel candy. And with her heavy Yugoslavian accent tell him he was a good boy and would tell him not to tell his sisters.  This is something he never forgot.