Hugo Schwyzer

My cousin Laura, with whom I often played as a child, died just over two weeks ago. Her obituary appeared today in the Charlotte Observer. She is my first relative younger than I to die, and it is a hard thing to accept. I post too many family obituaries on this blog, but cannot do otherwise when my loved ones go on.

Laura and I only saw each other a few times in adulthood, but in the late ’70s and early ’80s, we spent many summers together at our family ranch in Northern California. She was often the youngest in our group, but was spirited and impetuous and exuberant; a Leo to her core. Most memorably of all, she was never once intimidated by her elders. In the summer of 1981, when I was fourteen and Laura ten, we organized what turned into a daylong “Marco Polo” contest in the ranch pool. By cajoling and nagging and badgering everyone between six and twenty to play, we stretched that silly game — at which virtually everyone cheats — into a marathon that left us all utterly exhausted and very, very happy. Laura only quit when I, four years her senior, finally was so worn out I cried “enough!”

She had a wonderful laugh.

We are giving in Laura’s name this month to the Physicians Commitee for Responsible Medicine.