There is a Jewish proverb from the Book of Ecclesiastes that many of you will know from an old folk song, but it reads in part: To everything, there is a purpose ,for everything under heaven. There's a time to laugh, there's a time to weep, and there's a time to heal. To everything, turn, turn, turn.
The impact of Dr. Lawrence Gelman on DHR cannot truly be captured in mere words, nor can the impact of his passing be captured with words. His accomplishments, as we all know, are many, far too many to articulate here today, and many of you have heard some of the more significant ones already this morning. But I'd like to share with you a little bit about a man I came to know as a brilliant, dear friend. A man with unique wit and wisdom.
Dr. Gelman was born shortly after World War Two. He is the son of not one, but two Holocaust survivors. Neither Dr. Gelman nor his parents ever talked about those unspeakable horrors that his parents endured as young people. Nor did Dr. Gelman share those stories much at all. iI pressed, he might.
We learned only yesterday that his mother escaped a concentration camp. Was shot in the process. Yet she still endured. She came to America, bore a son, Dr. Lawrence Gelman, but those profound experiences of his parents, their truth, that truth, helped shape the man he was. It shaped his perspective on things, his views and his immense humanity. It showed up in his unwavering support for the State of Israel. It showed up in his value of life, both for the born and for the unborn. It showed up in his kindness to animals. It showed up in his kindness to strangers.
Dr .Gelman was a life-long conservative of the Jewish faith, deeply rooted and grounded by its customs and traditions. To his parents, he was a gifted doctor. To me and to many of you here today, much like his lifelong business partner, Alonzo Cantu, he was a man who would always answer the phone. Showed up no matter how tired he was to save a life or just to listen to many of us vent.
He arrived in the Valley from Chicago as a young man driving an old, beat up jalopy that had no air conditioning, for, after all, from Chicago, what do you need air conditioning in a car for? Well, he found out pretty quickly that, yes, indeed, you do need air conditioning in a car in the Rio Grande Valley. He arrived with that meetup, old car, but not with much else.
Well, he married his lifelong partner, Esperanza. Together, they built a life of extraordinary accomplishments. And, in fact, he credits Esperanza, as we heard earlier today, for much of his success.
Esperanza holds deeply seated Catholic beliefs. Dr. Gelman and Esperanza honored each other's faith just as sincerely as they honored their own, for the entirety of their 41 years of marriage. For they showed us that faith and love should never divide, it should only multiply. That we are much, much, better together than apart.
He was a devoted father and grandfather, as we heard. His love for Zina, Sharon, Rachel and Alex has no limit. They've all become very accomplished in their own right. To say he was proud of you would be a vast understatement.
The words that Rachel spoke here today and her siblings yesterday at the funeral will always be remembered as a brave, courageous, heartfelt and meaningful example of how great love can be expressed through the existence of heartbreaking pain. At his home I'm told he was thoughtful, opinionated, principled, and at times quite funny. Just like we found him here at DHR most days. He was present, accountable, and most of all, he was kind.
But we've also learned that Dr. Gelman was a complex individual. He was a renaissance man. He believed that in addition to traditional medicine, that art, music, beauty, could also be healing. I was told yesterday that he saw the Broadway musical Hamilton more than half dozen times. He manifested his belief that art and beauty could be a healing force as he built the world class Gelman Stained Glass Museum, a structure of extraordinary architectural achievement, full of priceless religious stained glass.
Lawrence once told me that if that museum was built in New York or Chicago, there would be thousands of people daily waiting to tour the facility. If you've never been to the Gelman Stained Glass Museum, do yourself a favor and go, for it is truly a transcendental, transformative, rewarding experience. And when that light pours out of those magnificent windows, you might just see a bit of him in it, in its color, in its patient and quiet wonder. The Gelman Stained Glass Museum is not just a building made of glass and stone. It is a reflection of the soul of a man. Much like DHR health, it is the soul of our dear friend, Dr. Lawrence Gelman made visible.
Seventy-four years of life full of purpose and love. Indeed, a life well lived, and for that, we can all say, bravo, our dear friend. Bravo.
Editor's Note: The above commentary was provided by Larry Safir, a non-physician member of DHR Health's Board of Managers. He gave his tribute to Dr. Lawrence Gelman at a Memorial Service DHR held at Edinburg Conference Center at Renaissance on Jan. 23, 2026.
Here is the official obituary for Dr. Lawrence Richard Gelman:
