The truth about my last 2 1/2 years

I feel like I have some summarizing to do of what these last 2 1/2 years of my life have been like before I can move on to more uplifting topics. I don’t know about the 5 stages of grief…if there’s really a text book way to grieve. I only know what I have experienced. And here’s a breakdown (no pun intended) of the past 2 1/2 years.

The first 6 months…
SHOCK: I just couldn’t believe it. Lance died. How did that happen? It was unfathomable. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was super human. He was supposed to survive. I really wasn’t ever going to see him again? My kids lost their father? These were some of the thoughts that swirled through my head day in and day out. And nights were horrible. I didn’t want to go to bed. Alone. I was lonely!! I looked for every escape imaginable mostly in the form of my cell phone. After all that Lance had done to eradicate himself from the ever addicting cell phone, it had become my life line. Anyone out there? Anyone up at midnight to tell me I’m not alone. ANYONE??? I even would text Lance and tell him I missed him. Sometimes I would watch videos of him, almost obsessively, trying to will him out of the computer and come to life. It just wasn’t possible I wasn’t ever going to see him, touch him, hear his laugh again.

Mornings were no better as I woke up feeling like there was a ten pound brick on my chest, it felt so heavy! Thank God for my kids…they have always brought me love and joy, even through my hardest days. Plus I had to be there for them. They had lost their father. I had to be present but sometimes I was so distracted. It was so hard to concentrate on anything. I was so racked with my own feelings of loss and shock. Even being through this every day with my kids, I couldn’t imagine what it’s like for a 7 & 9 year old to lose their Dad. The kids and I lit candles and chanted every night together for 40 days straight to release his spirit. Even when it was over, we still wanted to chant. It was our connection to him. We talked about him daily. We still do.

ESCAPE: Six months after Lance passed, a man came into my life. I know to many that seemed soon. I didn’t care what people thought. I knew what I had been through. How I had been on this journey for two years straight. Day in and day out. How there was nothing I wanted more than for Lance to survive. But he didn’t. I wanted to laugh, to have some fun. Unconsciously I wanted to escape my pain, my life even. And I did. It was a bit surreal. This pain was being lifted by someone bringing lightness into my life. I was being reminded that there is joy, happiness, even elatedness still to be had.

THE WORST: By one year, my support team for the most part had gone on with their lives (accept of course my die hard friends). That is normal and to be expected. You can’t always have people around checking up on you. Life does go on. But some people expected me to be moving on too (or at least it felt that way). I guess from outward appearances it seemed like I had. But grief grabbed me and took me down. I felt this emptiness, this loss so deep that I still can’t put it into words. I was so devastatingly sad and lonely sometimes. As the second year reared it’s ugly head, I couldn’t believe that this was really how life was going to be. It really was going to be without Lance. He wasn’t coming back. Certain random holidays I just wanted to hide. Father’s day, Memorial day, the 3 day holidays where everyone is with their families, their dads, their husbands. Our anniversary was so painful(!)…I thought we were supposed to be married for 50+ years? I started realizing that everything in my adult life was and had been about Lance. My dear, wild, mad scientist, father/husband/friend was gone and everything I dreamed about in my future was about us. It was debilitating. Humbling. I realized escaping grief was unavoidable. I couldn’t believe I was really going to have to let go of this man. We were Lance and Nance. Who was I without Lance? Ugh.

 For the first time in 4 years (since Lance was diagnosed), I am starting to dream again. Big dreams. The letting go process continues. I realize it’s an ongoing process. We (my kids and I) still have our hard days. But I don’t wake up with that brick on my chest and the man that showed up is still with me, and we are starting to create a future together. My kids, now 10 & 12 are thriving in school and with their friends and their sweet, loving compassionate hearts continue to grow. We still talk about Lance daily. Sometimes even talk to him. He will always be a part of us. I see many traits in my kids passed down from Lance. The wicked smart, life loving, adventure making, risk taking man will always be with us. We just have to tap into our hearts. He’s there.

Love, Nance


I’m back…

Sunset jumpAfter 2 1/2 years of falling off the radar, I’m starting up my dusty ole blog again. I know I don’t need to give any explanations of why I fell off the radar but at the same time I’ve questioned how long I can live in the “I lost my husband” fog? Not to others, but to myself. For 2 1/2 years I’ve been questioning what is my life’s purpose. Many of my friends would look at me compassionately, “You just went through something so heavy. Don’t worry so much. It will come.”  It would make me feel better for a day but then the very next day I’d be back to wondering what in the world I was doing with my life. As if raising two children isn’t enough…and why isn’t it?

It took me awhile to realize why this was such a prevalent theme for me. I had my whole life figured out and Lance was part of it all. So after the initial shock phase of losing Lance wore off and the second year reared it’s ugly head, I was COMPLETELY lost. I realized all the dreams I had, were wrapped up with Lance…every detail of my life had been planned out, all the way up to getting old and grey (yes I was a planner) and Lance was a part of every decade. Thus began the painful process of letting go. Ugh! Even as I write this my eyes are filled with tears. Letting go is a long and ongoing process…

For anyone who read my blog while Lance was sick knows that writing was my outlet. My catharsis. While this might not be my life’s purpose…it is an outlet for me. I like sharing whatever wisdom I can impart. I am not a nutrition expert, or a health expert, or death expert or a grief expert, or an expert on life or any kind of expert for that matter, I just have my experiences. I speak and write from those and from my heart. Anyone who knows me, knows I am an open book. So I am going to share…whatever inspires me at that particular moment.

And maybe, just maybe, I will find my life’s purpose along the way.



Lance was my DJ.

When we first met, he made me countless tapes(!), then we graduated to CD’s and finally to our sonos system. When we discovered sonos, we thought we had died and gone to Heaven. I don’t know what a life without music would be. I listen to music when I’m happy, sad, mellow, mad, and every emotion in between. I know many of you can relate.

We bonded instantly over our love of music. If he was my DJ, I was his muse. He would DJ and I would dance for him and the kids. I could always say “Hey Lance…I’m in this mood, can you put on some music?” He would get it right on the money. His musically tastes were vast…from classical, to punk, to jazz, to hippy, to classic rock, to spiritual, to reggae, to grunge, to country (Johnny Cash country), to world music, to contemporary, to bluegrass to you name it. We related on that level in a big way. While Lance was growing up listening to the Sex Pistols and the Violent Femmes, I was going to my first concert (The Police, Oingo Boingo, Thompson Twins, Madness and The Fixx). We both went to countless Dead Shows. We feel in love to Neil Young and Ben Harper. Lance claimed he had discovered Pearl Jam when they were a little unknown band that came to CU. I thought that was kinda cute and awfully cocky of him ;).

While we were on road trips and if we were listening to the radio, he always tested me to see if I knew the band that was playing. He was always trying to get me but nine out of ten times I would get it right…it never ceased to impress him. I was his match…maybe not quiet as eclectic but somehow I would pull it out of somewhere.

Music to me just defines and intensifies my mood…if i’m elated and listening to a song I love, I feel even more elated. When I’m sad, I blast those sad songs until I can cry no more. I sometimes wonder where my daughter gets her moves and then I realize…duh! Zach thinks I’m weird when I do some goofy dance but claims he loves a weird mom (we’ll see how long that lasts). Bottom line, music is cathartic for me.

Lately I’ve found myself listening to Justin Bieber…embracing Amelie’s music…but have had moments like, “Is this normal? Are other 40 something year olds listening to 18 year olds singing and actually kinda liking it?” There I admitted it!

I’m a little worried Lance is shaking his head wherever he is when he sees me rocking out to JB so this post is actually a request. My DJ is gone but I know I have countless die heart musically friends of all types. Could you post some suggestions of your favorite songs? Happy, sad, danceable…you name it. I need it! I have rhapsody and I can play them instantly.

It will bring lots of joy because I’m a little tired of my music and a little lost without my DJ.

Love and many thanks,
PS: Just in case I’ve worried you all, Amelie and I have bonded over Adele too.



Celebrating Lance: Save the date

I never understood when I heard there was a celebration of someone’s life, how you could be celebrating such a sad occasion. I have never been to one so I have had no experience with memorials. Well now I understand. Lance would not want a bunch of people crying over him. He would much prefer we celebrate, reminisce, laugh, dance and have fun. And I do think he will be there in spirit so I would hate to disappoint! So although there may be some tear jerking moments, come celebrate the man who we all loved and cherished and had such a big impact on so many lives.

Here’s the details:
DATE:               Sunday, October 7th
TIME:                2pm to Sundown. Ceremony starts at 2pm, party to follow.
WHERE:           Planet Bluegrass (in Lyons, 20 min outside of Boulder)
INVITED:           Anyone who knew and loved Lance (please feel free to circulate this post)
KIDS:                Absolutely!
EXPECT:          Music, food & drinks
BRING:             Blankets…for kids to sit on (if you are coming from Boulder area)
RSVP:               RSVP to Roxanna at Feel free to comment too.
PLEASE:           Car pool

Looking forward to seeing you in October.


The Cremation

One of the most excruciating conversations Lance and I had (and I want to encourage ALL couples to have NOW…among others I will share in the future) is that of burial vs cremation. Lance and I had talked about it casually over the years…in a very “when we are old, what would you want me to do?” kind of way. Not in a very serious or detailed way at all.

As we were nearing the inevitable, I was desperate to know what Lance wanted. It was on my mind a lot but as I said before I was trying to take Lance’s lead. What I wanted Lance to know was that we (the kids and I) would always keep his spirit alive not only on a daily basis but that we would honor him in many ways throughout the years.

One of the ways was to spread Lance’s ashes to all his favorite places in the world since travel was one of his greatest passions. Some of the places on that list: Telluride (where we were married), Bali (where he had spent time and we always dreamed of spending a year with the kids), Nepal (he was obsessed with Everest), Egypt (Zach and Lance always bonded big time over their fascination with all things Egyptian), Lake City (where Lance spent all but one 4th of July and loved and adored his Gentry relatives), Hanalei (our dreamy last family vacation), Israel (another favorite place of his). We did finally have this conversation, through an emotionally painful tear-filled talk. Lance liked the idea as much as anyone could under the circumstances.

The day of the cremation was something I hadn’t exactly planned. Lance’s childhood friend asked me if I wanted his help getting Lance to the crematorium. I had vaguely thought that I would take him there myself in the truck but it was 30 minutes away and I was worried about the truck breaking down. I gladly accepted the offer and “my girls” arranged for “the guys” to meet at the Shambhala Center to carry Lance’s body down the three flights of stairs. What ensued next was his friends wanting to see Lance through this final process. They all considerately asked if I was okay with them coming (of course I was) and all five guys jumped in the mini van and surrounded Lance.

Just a little background…Lance and I met in 1990 at a Grateful Dead show in LA. So our dear friend Paolo (who also happened to be at the same show but we did not know at the time), burned the CD from the concert and they played it for Lance’s final ride. They even had beers. My friend Tiphaine and I followed behind them.

Once we arrived at the crematorium the atmosphere was very sobering. It was industrial and so final. UGH! I had hoped I would be ready by this time but in truth I wasn’t. I even joked (but was kind of half serious) that I wanted to keep Lance for a few more days and the kids new job could be to replace the dry ice. Later, Paolo said he was thinking the same thing.

We gathered around him, stacked up our hands one by one and said our final goodbyes. But then I realized (besides keeping his hat) that I didn’t want his clothes to go in the fire. I felt like we come into this world with no clothes and should go back the same way. I also didn’t want his clothes to be part of the ashes. I just wanted it to be him. So we undressed him. We left one eagle feather and the white Shambhala sash.

The final part is almost indescribable. All seven of us, with our arms wrapped around each other, watched as the person who tends to the bodies, put Lance in a giant kiln type oven.

Now I have seen many bodies on the pyres along the burning ghats of Varanasi (India) but to see the love of your life…there is no comparison. I have no words to describe what that was like. I don’t regret being there because I wanted to be a part of every step of the process. I guess I needed to see the finality of it and as I said before I never wanted Lance to be alone but it was hands down the hardest part of all.

When we returned to Boulder, we were not ready to part with each other. We had all been part of an extremely personal process for three days and this day in particular had been an intense, emotional day. We needed each other to help lift our spirits. So we went to a roof top restaurant and had a drink. We said many cheers to Lance and reminisced about the man we all and will forever love.


Death demystified & the Ceremony

I don’t even know where to start with the Sukhavati Ceremony. In Buddhist traditions, the body is kept for 3 days after death to help release the spirit from the physical body. Just to clarify, I knew NOTHING about this a few weeks before Lance’s death. But a kind, gentle person in my life encouraged me that it might be something I would want to consider. I hadn’t really thought about the process of Lance dying and what that would/could look like. Truthfully, I wasn’t exactly ready to face it. I was still holding out for Divine Intervention.

My first thoughts were “Keep Lance’s body around for 3 days?” “How would my kids feel?” “How would I feel?” Death had always scared me when I was young and still as an adult, I was weary of how I would feel about the dying process and seeing a dead body. But one thing I knew with every ounce of my being was that wisking Lance’s body away right after dying would feel shocking, empty and invasive. Plus, the idea of freeing Lance’s spirit? That was definitely something I wanted to do. I wanted to do everything and anything for Lance. So I opened my mind to the process and only a couple weeks before Lance passed, I met with a woman who guided me through the process of having a home death.

My gut told me that having Lance home for 3 days might be too hard on my kids…especially because during that time you open your doors to allow people who loved him to come spend time with him. That was daunting. So I discussed with a couple close friends what other options I had. The Shambhala center was brought up and being that Lance, the kids and I had a history there, I knew immediately that was the perfect place.

Roxanna, Alison & Tiphaine

Now I’ve mentioned “the guys” but without these three amazing, loving and completely devoted, get-it-done woman, none of this would have gone so smoothy. I basically handed off everything to them and they had everything ready for when the time came. It was only two days before Lance died that we got the okay from the Shambhala Center. I was feeling the pressure but my girls were all over it.

Initially, I thought being at the Shambhala Center would allow for people to visit and sit with Lance but then Roxanna asked me ever so sweetly, “Would you like to have a little ceremony for Lance?” Trusting in all things that Roxanna suggests, I said yes and quickly met with the woman who would officiate the most beautiful and moving ceremony for my sweet deserving husband.

What this ceremony brought for me, my kids, family and friends was peace and acceptance for the beautiful man who happened to have the most undeniable graceful and peaceful smile that comforted us all beyond words. What he did for me and I have heard over and over again, is he demystified the dying process. For many of the people, it was the first time seeing someone who had passed, and there was nothing remotely scary about it, not even for my kids or the many kids who attended the ceremony.

Zach, Amelie’s and my hands with a red tail hawk wing lying on Lance’s chest

My kids were able to partake in the ceremony by offering elements to the altar (this was symbolic and something they took very seriously and profoundly) and people got a chance to tell funny and endearing stories of the man we all loved. Even Zach’s 10 year old friend Giacomo spontaneously stood up, in front of 250 people and spoke about how much he loved Lance, what a great father he was and how sad he was that he was gone. If people hadn’t teared up by that point they had now.

Thank you to Lindy who did a beautiful job officiating the service.

We also did a tonglen meditation which is breathing in our own fears, pain and sorrow and releasing it so that nothing hinders Lance’s passage. At the very end of the ceremony Lance’s photo was burned while the entire room chanted Namo Amitabhaya meaning “Homage to Infinite Light” (giving boundless light and infinite life). The ashes and sand from the picture burning were then scattered in the mountains along a trail Lance used to run during a silent walk attended by a couple friends, my kids and Lance’s mom.

There was a sense of joy and celebration for this larger than life being contrasting sharply with the great loss that was felt by all of this beautiful man, husband, father, son and dear friend.

Where there is light, there is darkness and in the dark we instinctively turn toward the light and that is one of the many gifts Lance taught us.


Happy Birthday Lance

Lance with Mt. Everest in the distance

Today would have been Lance’s 44th Birthday. That makes me sad. People asked me if Father’s Day would be hard not knowing that his birthday was just a week away. I knew this would be harder. Not because we would have had a big celebration. We wouldn’t have. Lance never really liked celebrating his birthday too much. What makes me sad is to think he would have been 44 and it is a reminder of how young he was. He used to always say (pre-diagnosis) “I’m old” but as soon as he was diagnosed, he was suddenly “so young.”

The one thing that gives me solace on this otherwise sorrowful day, is Lance lived half the time that the majority of us will live but the time he did live, he lived it big. Anyone that knew Lance knew how much he lived life fully. He lived passionately, courageously, and enthusiastically.

A voracious reader who traveled the world, skied like a mad man, built companies from scratch while being an awesome dad, husband and friend, built everything from kitchens to bathrooms to tree houses and real houses (maybe not to perfection but least he did it), did 10 day solo vision quests, summited Kilimanjaro, traveled with the Bedouin’s in the Middle East (Syria & Jordan), hiked to Everest base camp, scuba dived in the Red Sea at night during a full moon, went on an African safari in a do it yourself way (not high end), climbed to the top of the pyramids in Egypt (I think illegal now and maybe then too ;)) and ran barefoot (these are just a few of the things that come to mind).

Lance was a “can do” guy. There was nothing he felt that he couldn’t accomplish. I am continually reminded by others how Lance lived the lives of three people combined and that gives me comfort. One friend said to me recently, “Lance was too much of an adventurer not to come back and visit.” Hoping for that too…

So on this day, I am going to go hike in the mountains behind our house, reminisce about all the things Lance achieved big and small and give thanks to his spirit that was and is such a big inspiration in my life.

Happy Birthday Lance. I miss you.


Lance’s last ride in his ’68 Ford truck

I had made a list of men that in my mind were going to be the “pallbearers” (translation: Lance’s close friends that were going to carry his body from our house to the back of his ’68 Ford pick up truck and up three flights of stairs to the shrine room at the Shambhala Center). The thing is, I didn’t want to tell the guys about this list because after all Lance was still alive. But as I said in my earlier post, I had to think of some of these details if I wanted to have a smooth process. I knew I didn’t want some hearse like vehicle with some man I had never met taking Lance away. I wanted to be a part of every step of the process including his cremation (yet another post) and I wanted him to go Lance style. Anyone that has known Lance long enough, knows he has NEVER been without a big ole’ beat up truck.

Almost 24 hours after Lance’s passing in our home (might sound freaky to some but felt like the most natural thing in the world), my seven strong men showed up organized by some of my dear close girlfriends who pretty much orchestrated everything after Lance’s passing.

Some of the men had been with Lance the day before while Lance was in a coma and some were seeing him for the first time. I was so impressed how they all showed up. Not just with their emotions but with their dignity, honor and grace. I felt such a connectedness with the group instantly from the moment they arrived which would only develop further as the days continued. Many of them would come spontaneously to the cremation with me a few days later. They sat around our bed, honoring and telling stories about Lance, laughing and crying. I was so touched by this display of affection from seven hunky men.

Roxanna and the guys in the back with Lance

When they carried him, they treated Lance like a prince (which he was of course). My girls had bought a box (yes a cardboard box…made for a prince) for his transportation and my friend Roxanna had dyed these beautiful silks to lay him in. They placed him gently in the box and carried him to the truck. Mind you it was a 90 degree day and they were worried about him melting (he had dry ice on him to preserve his organs) but I didn’t want him to be covered up for his last ride in his truck (or ever actually). They complied, sweet men that they are, and all jumped in the back and gathered around him. I drove the truck along with my friend Roxanna while his childhood friend, Derek, pulled out a beautiful flute and started playing it. It was sweet and magical ride in light of such a sorrowful time.

We drove downtown and even got stopped on Pearl and Broadway right downtown (not by police, but by a red light). This is the busiest crosswalk in Boulder. The juxtaposition of these people casually walking across the street while the nine of us were in a sacred procession was a bit surreal.

When we arrived at the Shambhala Center, Lance’s dear and caring friends carried him up three flights of stairs to the beautiful shrine room where Lance and I have meditated many times and my kids have been a part of the Buddhist school there for years. Almost immediately, four gorgeous bouquet of flowers (thanks to Tommy) arrived and were placed around him.

Lance and his famous hat (more on that later)

Between the men, they decided who would be with Lance throughout the night…sometimes multiple people sat with him. He was never left alone for a moment until his cremation. This gave me great comfort after being awake for more than 60 hours to go home, be with my kids and finally get some rest before yet another mystical and moving ceremony that would be held the next evening.

Words cannot express my gratitude for these gracious, heart-centered men who honored and loved Lance in a way that the sincerest of friends do. I know Lance in spirit is smiling down and saying “thank you.”

Justin, Tommy, Travis, Hatch, John, Paolo & Derek (from left to right)

Lance’s last words

I didn’t know when Lance said very softly “I love you Nan” in the early hours Friday morning on the 8th (around 2am), that that would be his last words. Later, as I was holding his hand and he was unable to communicate anymore, he squeezed my hand 3x which I thought to myself “Is he doing ‘the thing’ we have done for 16 years?” Three times, meant “I love you.” So I squeezed back 4x “I love you too.” Then he squeezed back 2x “How much?” and then I squeezed one more time as hard as I could….meaning “so very much.” This would be the last communication I would have with him.

What happened? To some, Lance’s passing may have felt sudden and shocking. His decline was quick. In fact he died exactly one month after we returned from Puerto Rico. He worked until 2 weeks before his death and even held a sales meeting at our house a week before he died. He was never in pain until the day before he died and for this I am eternally grateful.

Lance was given a very dismal diagnosis back in January 2011 but I truly (as did he) felt in our hearts that we would beat this. In fact Lance said days before his death, “I never thought this would get me.” This past March when we received a bad MRI, I was still hopeful against all odds but also feeling like I might have to face a harsh reality. Lance was pretty determined until two days before his death which is a testament to who Lance was.

The thoughts and details I was personally struggling with in those past few months were difficult for me to always share with Lance because I was trying to take his lead. I wanted to be the person he needed me to be (his cheerleader, supporter, partner in hope) but when you are faced with the potential of someone dying, you can’t just stand passively by if the worst does happen and your biggest wish is to make the very end as peaceful and natural as possible.

My goal was that Lance would not end up in a hospital…cold, isolated, sterile, behind closed doors and so not Lance. I knew that if Lance were to die I wanted him to be in the comforts of our home and around people who loved him. With a stoke of luck and the love, dedication and unstinting help of friends, we made that happen. Next I was looking at the process after his death which can often look something like this: wisking the body away, funeral homes, embalming…all cold, weird and NOT LANCE. I wanted Lance to go Lance style…and boy did he ever.

Over the next few weeks I will be writing about the last 48 hours of Lance’s life and the days that followed. Lance, forever my teacher, left me with some powerful lessons about both life and death in his final days. I am sharing this not only because it is cathartic for me, but his death was something as close friends witnessed, incredible and helped demystify death which by all accounts felt like Lance’s last gift.

While there is no amount of words to express how much I wish Lance was still here and how I know the worst of my sorrow is yet to come, his death and three day ceremony to follow were magical and unforgettable. His last ride in his ’68 Ford pick up truck with seven guys gathered around him as I drove to the Shambhala Center was just one of the many extraordinary events that happened in the course of 3 days….but more on that later (with pictures).

Lance and my common goal in starting this blog was to share the insights and lessons we learned throughout this experience in hopes that people will make changes without having an ending like ours. I will continue to share those teachings because I feel passionate about them as well as in my own small way, it is my way of honoring the amazing and one-of-a-kind man that was my husband.

PS: A couple of articles about Lance:


Lance M Gentry

Dear Friends & Family,

It is with great sorrow that we share with you that Lance has passed away. He died at home Friday night with his loved ones by his side.

What a journey Lance and his family have been on for the past 17 months. Together, they learned so much about life and love.  It has been a sojourn of hope, faith, charity and grace. Initially, Lance was overwhelmed and humbled by the outpouring of love that flowed his way – from all corners of the world.  At times it was hard for him to take in.  In these final days, Lance seemed to be taking it all in.  We couldn’t take his journey for him, but he knew he wasn’t alone.

The peace on Lance’s face when he passed was a tribute to the state of grace he was in, surrendering with dignity and beauty.

Lance was a huge life-force, larger than life.  We know all of you have special remembrances of him.  In the coming weeks, will you please take the time to write down your memories of Lance for Zach and Amélie?  Please make these age appropriate for 9 year old Zach and 7 year old Amélie. These could be short and sweet or as long as you like: a story which makes you laugh, advice he gave you, the way he danced, his favorite music, a trip you took together, a special joke you shared, his outlook on life, his favorite books, something quirky that you remember. We plan to collect these memories of him and make a book for Amélie and Zachary to help them continue to know the unique, love-filled, crazy, gifted, thoughtful, caring, dynamic, professional, funny, fabulous man who is their father.

Please address them to Zach and Amélie and mail them home to 1830 Mariposa Ave, Boulder, CO 80302.

Lance’s body will be at the Shambhala Center in Boulder (in the main shrine room) starting today around 4pm, with a special ceremony on Sunday at 5pm for those who would like to participate. Friends are welcome to view and visit Lance during normal Shambhala hours.

A memorial to celebrate Lance’s life will be scheduled for the Fall and all are welcome to attend. We will notify everyone once the date has been set.

The Gentry family thanks you for all you have done to uphold them throughout this passage. In deep gratitude for the love that binds us all together, and in the joy we all share in having known and loved Lance.


~Friends & Family