Clarice 'Clarie' Jenkins Larrick, 77
"What words could possibly capture the vibrant, effervescent character known as Clarie? 'The 90-pound dynamo' will have to suffice! It wouldn't be too farfetched to imagine that her list of "Things to do today" during the greater part of her lifetime might have included 1) paint the house 2) mow the lawn and 3) move the woodpile - one more time!" She could accomplish more in one day than many can manage in a week or more. Clarie's attitude was always "I can do it" and was manifested in her warp-speed gait and high-energy accomplishments.
Clarie was the mistress of true sacrifice, serving her family and community without any need for recognition. She chose to actively make a difference by supporting others undergoing laryngectomies (surgical removal of the larynx) and helping to set up a local support group for fellow laryngectomies, sharing her cancer story with teenage smokers, serving as a hospital volunteer, and as a volunteer for the Gemini program. For many years she also served as a Hospice volunteer, helping to ensure that people dying might do so with dignity, and she was blessed by this organization when it so compassionately served her and supported her family when she died on the morning of July 10, 2006, at Kalispell Regional Hospital.
Born in her parents' home in Philipsburg on Jan. 30, 1929, to George C. and Della (Rule) Jenkins, Clarice was proud to be the grandchild of pioneer families. She graduated from Drummond High School in 1947, and on March 20, 1948, married her sweetheart, S.Y. Larrick, to whom she was affectionately known as "Clarie" forever more. Theirs was a love affair that lasted for 47 years, until S.Y.'s death in 1995.
After graduating from the Business College in Missoula in 1949 and working to support S. Y. while he was in law school, Clarie gave birth to twin daughters, Vickie and Jackie, and in 1950, moved to Whitefish. In 1951, she and her family moved to Kalispell where she and S.Y. had daughters Suzanne and Robin, and where she remained until her death.
Clarie was born with the "gift of gab," an ability that allowed her to make any stranger feel at ease. Even after her laryngectomy, she joked that "they can cut my throat, but they can't shut me up." Her gift, however, was tempered by an amazing ability to listen - she should have written the book on "active listening." She had an uncanny ability for calling at just the right time, and saying just the right thing. She could be trusted to keep a confidence, and this fact and her wise counsel drew many to her fence and kitchen table where could be found people of all genders and ages. She was a mother figure to many, who encouraged them to do and be their best, and offered her support and help to make others' dreams come true.
Perhaps because Clarie was such a good listener, her ability to remember the details of others' lives was so extraordinary. She filed away the various minutiae of people's lives and was always able to call to mind what seemed like insignificant data, helping people realize just how much they meant to her. Inside her head resided vast stores of dates, names, numbers, facts, and many irretrievable, sweet memories of good times with friends, relatives, children and grandchildren. Sometimes her references to time were slightly unique - "Don't you remember," she might say, "that was the year we grew that huge potato?" - but you could always count on Clarie to remember what, when and where.
She laughed with reckless abandon with a hearty, infectious laugh that was quelled only by her surgery after throat cancer. When she could no longer laugh with her voice box, her sky-blue, extraordinarily expressive eyes took over. With just one look, she could stop an offender in the midst of a misdeed, or embrace one with such compassion that you knew you'd just come home.
Clarie was a savvy investor, a homemaker extraordinaire whose cooking many looked forward to. She had a lovely singing voice and a love of music, and it wasn't unusual to hear her stereo blaring on cleaning day, as she enjoyed the songs of her ear. Just as comfortable with a wrench in her hand fixing her lawn mower, or at the sewing machine whipping up curtains for her girls, there just wasn't much that Clarie couldn't do. She was a classy dresser, a beautiful dancer, and a gracious hostess. Unimpressed with people's position or status, she gauged others by their character, and held herself to her own standards.
Her family and friends meant everything to Clarie, evident in the fact that through a multitude of hospitalizations, setbacks, declining health and a recent move to an apartment in an assisted-living facility, she continued to receive numerous visits and phone calls from those whose lives she touched. We are sure that she would want you all to know how much you meant to her.
The legacy she leaves to us, her community and loved ones, is as simple and clear as her bright blue eyes: "Be there for one another, do your part, and when it's time to go Home, do so having left the world a better place."
Clarie was preceded in death by her mother and father, Della and George Jenkins; brother, Cameron, Charles, and George Calvin; daughter, Suzanne; and husband S.Y.
She is survived by daughters, Vickie Poynter, Jackie Stevens and her husband, Greg, Robin Graham and her husband, Murry; grandchildren, Sean Larrick Poynter, Clair Elyse Graham, Taylor Emery Graham; and great-grandchild, Connor Larrick Poynter.
Memorial services for Clarie will be held at 4 p.m. Friday, July 14, at Epworth United Methodist Church in Kalispell, with the Rev. Huston Green officiating. Burial will be at 2 p.m. in C.E. Conrad Memorial Cemetery. There will be no public visitation.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Clarie's memory to CASA for Kids (Court Appointed Special Advocates), c/o 600 Granite View Drive, Kalispell, MT 59901
Johnson Mortuary and Crematory is caring for Clarie's family.