Friday, July 24, 2009
Missing Leif - What Does That Mean?
It's easy to say we miss someone. It's a global statement, meaning that we miss their presence and everything that presence meant to us. I miss Leif every day. But what do I miss the most? I miss his eyes when he smiled, those rascally brown eyes that could light up a room. I miss his electric smile, not the sad half smile I saw too often in the last year of his life. I miss his sense of humor, his intellect, his ability to discuss just about any subject and add something interesting and challenging to a conversation. I miss his ability to teach me things about technology, his view of the world, history, even guns. I miss his hearty laugh. I miss his enjoyment of good food, good movies, his favorite sci-fi shows. I miss his physical presence, his height and strength. I miss his passion about politics and our country. I miss his text messages. I miss his teasing. I miss seeing him at my table or coming in my door. I miss his voice. I miss the future he will never have, the children he will never father. I miss seeing him play chess with Madeleine or making silly videos on his cell phone with Aly. I miss seeing him drive up in his RX-8. I even miss seeing him on his motorcycle, much as I wished he wouldn't ride one. I miss seeing my two sons together, brothers talking. I miss taking pictures of him. I miss meeting him for dinner in Tampa or Brandon. I miss seeing him in his SCA garb, fighting in the park. I miss seeing him making chain mail. I miss so many, many things.
And most of all, I miss hugging him.
This photo was taken July 30, 2004 when we had Peter Anthony's family and Michael there and we were all gathered around our dining room table telling stories and drinking beer. It was a great evening. How I wish we could have another like it!