Eleven Years

Forty-two years ago, on April 10, 1977, it was Easter. We were living in Charlottesville, Virginia, and  two-year-old Leif was excited to be looking for his Easter basket.

Today, it is eleven years since we found his lifeless body on April 10, 2008.

We can look back on this beautiful child with love and longing, and gratitude for the years we had him.

We went to the cemetery today. In all these eleven years, this is the first time I have gone there without tears. They could have come, if I had let them, but I had my tears yesterday, and was glad that today, a beautiful sunny spring day, we could visit the cemetery without such wrenching grief, and talk about him with both sadness and happiness.

I am grateful for every picture I have of him. There is a Facebook meme going around today saying that you should make sure you are in photos because someday that's all your children will have of you. For us, except for a very few of his possessions, photos and memories are all we have of Leif. They are treasures.

Our Ninth Christmas Without Leif

It doesn't seem as though it could possibly be our ninth Christmas without Leif. It seems like only yesterday he was sitting here in our living room with little Aly on his lap, taking silly videos of her saying, dramatically, "I like pie." Only yesterday he was enjoying Christmas Eve dinner with us and making jokes.

The photos, the memories, and in some cases, the gifts we gave him ending back in our possession, are all we have of those Christmases now, but they are precious. Most precious, the memories and photos.

This picture was taken in Charlottesville, Virginia on Christmas Even 1976, just a month before Leif's second birthday. He was a precocious little rascal, so curious.

What we wouldn't give for another chance to see him. 

Leif 40 Years Ago Today

Yesterday I was looking for something on my computer and happened across a video clip of Leif's first two years. The quality was pretty lousy, because it had been taped onto VHS tape years ago, already degrading the resolution, and then digitized from that in 2008, but even with the fuzzy focus it was so precious to see that beautiful little boy, so young, so tiny (even though a "giant"for his age) and so vulnerable. I watched it with a mixture of happy nostalgia and sadness. I want to go back and try to digitize it again from the original 8mm movies and see whether I could get a better version.

This photo was taken during that period, and almost exactly 40 years ago, September 1976, in Charlottesville, Virginia. The reason for the odd position of my arm around him was that we were playing wrestling games on the floor, and "dump truck," a game he loved, where I'd lie on the floor and have him on my lower legs, then lift him up and "dump" him on my chest.

What a beautiful child he was. I miss that little boy. I miss the man he became. It's nearly eight-and-a-half years since his death, and it still affects us every day of our lives, and it always will.

Another birthday passed

January 28th would have been Leif's 41st birthday if he were still alive. The last birthday he had was January 28th, 2008, and he spent it with us. In the years since he died, I've wanted to spend his birthday with Peter, remembering him, doing something he would have enjoyed, but several times that was not to be, as I ended up having to spend the day with Mom at the hospital or rehab, or at a doctor's appointment.

This time, we were able to go to the Beach House Restaurant on Anna Maria Island for lunch, and remember how much he loved the sea. It was a gray, rainy, foggy day, not the sunshine we had hoped for, but we were together, and we talked of Leif, his life, his death, and how much he is still a daily part of our lives. I got through the day okay, but cried myself to sleep. I still miss him so much!

I would have written a blog post on his birthday but somehow I just couldn't deal with it. I didn't want to put into words what I was feeling, partly because I wanted avoid the pain of it, and partly because it seemed I really didn't have anything new to say.

Peter looked at photos of Leif on this blog, and made one of them his profile photo on Facebook, once of my all time favorites of the two of them, when they were walking in the woods in Charlottesville, and Leif was looking so surprised and cute on his dad's back. I chose this birthday photo partly because it, also, was taken in Charlottesville, on Leif's second birthday, January 28, 1977. He looks so little and cuddly. It was an almond cake, homemade, not fancy, but tasty. We were in the dining area of our kitchen in the townhouse we rented.

It's going to soon be eight years since Leif died. I can't fathom how it can have been that long. It seems like yesterday he was sitting at our kitchen table.

So much is happening in the world right now that would interest him, movies, television shows, world affairs, politics. He would be so interesting to talk with, to share with. I miss that chance. I miss his text messages. I miss his laugh. I miss his bear hugs. I miss wishing him happy birthday.

I Dreamed of Leif Last Night

We so seldom remember our dreams. I wonder how many times I dream about Leif. When I woke up this morning, I had been dreaming about Leif. In my dream, he was eating cookies and drinking milk, and he was wearing the blue sweater he is wearing in this photo with his dad. It was so clear, and there was more to the dream than that, but all I could keep in my memory was the darling little toddler with the cookies and milk. I wish I'd have more dreams of him to remember.

This photo was taken by Leif's beloved Aunt Lannay when we lived in Charlottesville, Virginia in 1977. He was two years old. 

Leif and Lannay in December 1992

 In December 1992, when Leif was just shy of his 18th birthday and in his senior year at Manhattan High School, his Aunt Lannay (my sister) came to Kansas for an early Christmas celebration with our family. At that time, a lot of us were living in and near Manhattan, Kansas, and she wanted to spend a Christmas with her family. Lannay and Leif always had a special relationship, ever since he was one-and-a-half and we moved to Charlottesville, Virginia for a year. He was more affectionate with her than he was with anyone else and they had a bond.

It's interesting to me to see this picture now, nearly 21 years later and see a family resemblance between them that I had never really noticed before.

Leif was so slender then, handsome with such cute dimples. He still had acne, but it was a lot better than it had been when he was in junior high. His hair was very long, not quite as long as Lannay's but close. In these pictures he had it pulled back in a long pony tail. You can see that even at 18 when his hair was luxurious and long, he had a high forehead and receding hairline.

I remember how important music was to him, always, and you can see one of his guitars hanging up behind him in the top photo. He had quite a collection of CDs. Sometimes the door to his room would be literally pulsating more like a drumhead than a wooden panel door from the deep bass he played on his stereo.

These photos make me smile. He looks happy, really happy. He beams. That kind of unreserved smile was rare from him. I didn't see it often, and I miss it.

The Everyday Flood of Memories

It seems just about everywhere we turn there are reminders of Leif. He was such a strong presence. Yesterday Peter remarked that he wished Leif were here to help us choose a new car, as he did the Rendezvous which has served us so well.

Then on television, they had a special program on the truly unusual sports cars, like Lamborghini, Leif's favorite, showing how they are made. He would have loved it.

Even driving home from Brandon, the crazy drivers who were driving too fast and weaving in and out of traffic reminded us of him.

No matter where we go, we always think of him, and very often talk of him, too, of his talents and intelligence, of his taste and interests, and yes, of his bad luck and poor choices.

From his childhood through his adulthood, he left a larger-than-life impression on everyone who knew him.

When we were at Universal Islands of Adventure, I had to go back to take this photo of the Truffula trees in Seuss Landing. As soon as I saw them I remembered little two-year-old Leif, who had memorized "The Lorax," sitting on the floor in the living room of the townhouse we were renting in Charlotteville, Virginia, and carefully turning the pages while reciting the entire book perfectly. And I can hear his little boy voice saying,

It's a Truffula Seed.
It's the last one of all!
You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds.
And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs.
Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care.
Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air.
Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack.
Then the Lorax
and all of his friends
may come back.”  - From "The Lorax" by Dr. Seuss

                   
I wish I had a video of him "reading" that book. I wish I could REALLY hear him do it.

Five Years Since We Saw Him

Five years ago on Easter Sunday, which was March 23rd, was the last time we saw Leif alive. He was here for dinner, and how I wish I had taken pictures that evening. I've written about it before. It was a good visit, relaxed and seemingly happy. He was in love. There was no hint that he would be dead two weeks later.

Of all the Easter Sundays in my children's lives, it seems I took photos only a few times. I can't find many pictures of Easter egg dying or hunting and I've already posted those I have. Our Easter traditions were special and fun, but no longer practiced without children to make them fun and special. No more painting Easter eggs. No more hanging them on the Easter tree. No more setting out the little wooden Easter bunny figures from Germany or making the Easter nest cake for breakfast. No more hiding Easter baskets. No more cute little boys hunting for them. They are good memories. Easter will bring them back every year.

It's hard to believe it's been five years since we saw Leif. He is still so much a part of our lives, our thoughts. We still miss him every day. We still talk about him every day. So much still reminds us of him.

I love the look of wonder in his eyes in this picture. Leif was such a curious little "discoverer." The photo was taken in Charlottesville, Virginia in 1977. He was two years old.

Leif's 38th Birthday

It would have been Leif's 38th birthday today, had he lived. We would have had him come for dinner because he liked to have me make his favorite foods. I think he would have had peach fritters with foamy sauce for sure. He wasn't a big cake lover. Like all the men in our family, he preferred pie, but pie after peach fritters could be a bit much.

Every birthday with him was precious and special. We didn't miss many in his life, only the ones when he was in the army. A long time ago in this blog I posted a photo of each of his birthdays for which we had pictures, but of course not all the pictures. How I wish we had better ones!

This photo was taken the day before his second birthday, at Rocking Horse Country Day School in Charlottesville, Virginia. The kids baked cupcakes and had them with their lunch. Leif, ever the little experimenter, was quite interested in the texture of the cupcake and had to stick his finger in it.

He was still a little blondie at that point. I wonder why it is that many children are blond when they are small and their hair darkens as they get older. By the time Leif was in junior high school, his hair was very dark brown.

In the background you can see the "art wall." Rocking Horse Country Day School had a wall that the kids could draw and color on, post their art projects on, and in general do all the things kids would LIKE to do to walls but aren't supposed to. I thought it was a brilliant idea. They were very good about doing their drawing and scribbling only on THAT wall and not the others. I know it would be hard to give kids a wall like that at home, but maybe hanging a whiteboard or something where they could draw and scribble on the "wall" to their hearts content would help keep them from doing it elsewhere.

Leif hadn't been going to this school for long when this was taken. It was unusual for a day school to take a child that young, but there were several two-year-olds there, probably because their parents needed to find a place they could thrive, too. It was a Montessori school, and it was wonderful for Leif. He was so bright that no matter how much attention and enrichment I gave him at home, it wasn't enough. He was frustrated. When we found the school, he took to it as though he had been searching for it. I will always be grateful to Linda J. for accepting him there.

Today I wish my son a happy birthday. He's not here to celebrate it, but I will remember his birthday, this year and every year.

Remembering Easters Past

A Visit to Bamberg

We moved from Charlottesville, Virginia to Fürth, Germany (Nurnberg) in the summer of 1977. We lived in an army housing area that has now been turned back over to the Germans and no longer exists as we knew it. We lived on the first floor of a three-story apartment building in a three bedroom apartment.

Leif was two-and-a-half when we arrived there, and I suppose in some ways he was in his "terrible twos," though I as I remember him the year that we lived in Fürth he was much more easy-going than he had been in Charlottesville.

I think it helped a lot that we did a lot of traveling, since he loved the stimulation and novelty, and that he had friends to play with and the Montessori preschool to attend. The more he could be active and away from home, the better he liked it. The car trips, the Volksmarches, the trips to downtown Nurnberg (with requisite visits to the pet and toy stores) and the parakeet we got all seemed to keep him engaged and less frustrated.

One of the places we visited in the fall of 1977 was the city of Bamberg, which we would return to on our 1988 trip to Germany with Leif. This photo of Peter W. and Leif on the bridge over the Regnitz River reflects his joy and interest at seeing new surroundings. I love that little houndstooth checked coat he's wearing. It was Peter Anthony's when he was little. They both looked so cute in it.

A Happy Family Photo for Valentine's Day

When the boys were little, we made Valentines, and we had Valentine's candy. Once they were grown, we didn't normally do much about Valentine's Day between us, figuring that was more between them and their girlfriends or wives, but I used to send them cards, sometimes with a little cash just for fun. In later years, I didn't do that any longer, either. Now I just send little remembrances and cards to my grandchildren.

This photo was taken at a happy time. Both my sisters and their husbands were visiting us in Charlottesville, Virginia. We enjoyed having them there and showing them around the area. This photo was taken by my sister, Sherie. We look full of life and love, and Leif looks joyful. He was always happy when Lannay or Sherie was around, when he was a little boy. 

A Rare Sweet Kiss

How rare and precious this photo is to me now, taken some 34 years ago when Leif was only two tears old. It was at a party at Rocking Horse Country Day School on Charlottesville, Virginia and Peter caught this kiss. Leif's usual form of affection for me was to jump on my back. He was so small and yet so large for his age. He was always a "presence." 1977. How long ago that seems, and yet I can remember just how he looked, how he felt, how he smelled, the softness of his hair, his rascally brown eyes.

Leif - Easter 1977 - Charlottesville, Virginia - Age 2

Holidays are always so much more fun with children. They are still in love with the magic of it all. I don't think any parent will forget the first time a child really participated in Christmas or Easter.

Leif was two years old, 26 months, when we celebrated Easter on a gorgeous day in Charlottesville, Virginia. It was April 10, 1977. We had our traditional Easter breakfast with Easter Nest Cake, and my sister, Lannay was with us for the weekend. We decorated hollow egg shells and made an egg tree with forsythia branches. In the photo of the family around the breakfast table, you can see both the cake and the tree. It was fun making them with the boys.

Later, we had our own Easter egg and basket hunt out back. Like most very young children, Leif at first didn't catch on to the idea that he had to go and LOOK for something hidden, but he did find his basket and very much enjoyed the contents. In addition to the standard candy, the boys got a few other little goodies, one of which was a "magic slate." Leif found this utterly fascinating and would scribble on it like mad and then rip up the plastic page to make it disappear. At the age of two, he wasn't doing much actual drawing yet, though he was able to do more than most kids that age.

This Easter Day, I am thinking of all those Easter mornings we spent together. Easter as a religious holiday was not meaningful to Leif, but all of us treasured it because of our good family times and traditions.

The last time we saw Leif alive was on Easter in 2008, March 23. Too old for Easter baskets and egg hunts, but still sharing the day with us.

Leif Getting a Haircut

Here's another one of those ordinary things most people don't have photos of. I always cut my boys hair, and most of the time, I also cut Peter W.'s hair. I'm not a trained barber, but I learned how to do it well enough to save us a lot of money over the years. This photo was taken by my sister, Lannay, in March 1977 in Charlottesville, Virginia. Leif was two years old. I'm wearing a jacket because it was so cold in the house. I no longer remember why, but it was very chilly.

Leif was such a cute two-year-old! His terrible twos weren't like other kids, though. The two things I remember that were difficult about him at that age were staying in bed and banging his head on the floor. I remember counting one night that he got out of bed 29 times before he finally gave up and went to sleep. I finally managed to find a "Zip-a-Babe" harness that was meant to keep a child safe in bed so they wouldn't roll out, and used that. I thought he would fight it, but he actually seemed relieved that he couldn't get up, though he could roll and find a comfortable position.

The head banging was disturbing. He would go off by himself and bang his head on the floor. I was very concerned that he had a serious neurological condition and we had him checked out thoroughly. No one could figure it out. I finally noticed that he didn't do it when we went out places but only when we stayed home all day. It turned out to be boredom and frustration, apparently. He was so incredibly smart that he was like some caged animal when kept at home all day, no matter how much time I spent with him or how many toys he had. He was fine once we got him started at Rocking Horse Country Day School.

At this age, Leif knew all his shapes, including complex ones like octagons and trapezoids, all his letters and numbers, and had memorized several long books, such as Dr. Seuss's "The Lorax." He loved any kind of outing, anything new that could stimulate that smart little brain.

He was not fond of haircuts. :)

Remembering the Little Moments of Life

There are so many ordinary moments of life that we don't think to document or even remember, moments that in their own way make up the cement of family time and bind us together, moments that slip past us without a second thought.

My sister, Lannay, captured some of those moments when we lived in Charlottesville, Virginia and she came to visit often. The boys were so young then, Peter Anthony in second grade, Leif two years old.

This photo of Peter W. giving Leif a drink of milk, their eyes meeting over the glass, is such a moment, not the kind of moment someone normally photographs, but so precious, such a sweet intimacy between father and son, such innocence and trust.

This photo was taken in April 1977. It has begun to yellow and it's not in sharp focus, but the sweetness comes through for all time.

Thank you, Lannay.

Time to Stay Very Busy as Leif's 36th Birthday Approaches

Anyone who has lost someone they deeply love can tell you that certain days are harder than others. Sometimes it's a day with a special significance due to a personal event, but it's always holidays like Christmas, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Thanksgiving and the loved one's birthday and death day that bring an especially poignant and painful sense of loss.

If find that the days leading up to those days are often harder for me than the actual day itself. I suppose it has to do with anticipating the day and how much I'll miss him. Christmas and Thanksgiving can be made better by time with family, busy time full of the things we do on holidays to keep my from thinking as much about Leif and missing him. Of course, he isn't gone from my mind, but the less time there is to be sad and reminisce, the better, at least for the celebrations.

It's much harder on Mother's Day or Father's Day, dates when we focus on parenthood and our children, and it's acutely clear that Leif isn't there, especially since he WAS with us from every one of them except while he was in the army for three years, plus there aren't any busy celebrations to be a distraction. We can, however, try to focus on Peter Anthony and be grateful for him and our continuing relationship with him, and all the years we have shared.

But Leif's birthday and death day have no other celebration, no other focus, and are impossible to ignore or forget, and I am finding it hard to anticipate his birthday on January 28th, wondering what I will say, what I will do, what he would have been like at thirty-six. I'm sure it will be so every year I live.

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This photo of Leif was taken in Charlottesville, Virginia in the spring of 1977 when he was two years old.

Christmas Eve 1976

I posted photos of Christmas photos of Leif for nearly every year of his life the past two Christmases. It's so hard to believe this our third Christmas without him. There is still a hole in my heart. I am enjoying our time with Peter Anthony and our grandchildren, but Leif is still missing, and the memories and the longing do not fade. I don't want to let it show, don't want to spoil everyone's good time with my sadness. How is it possible to be happy, joyful, and sad at the same time?


These photos were taken on Christmas Eve in 1976 when we were living in Charlottesville, Virginia. Leif would be two years old a month later. He was a darling child, and at this age knew all his shapes (including octagons, pentagons, trapezoids, etc.), his numbers and letters and could recite the entire "Lorax" by Dr. Seuss word for word, exactly. He was curious and active.

That Christmas we were fortunate to have a big family gathering, with my mother there, and my brother Donovan and his family and my sister, Lannay.


I wish I remembered what was in the shoebox Leif has. He loved boxes almost as much as what was in them.

I am so thankful for all the photos we have, the memories they bring back, the good times we had. These photos from 34 years ago are the treasures of my heart.

Sunday Pancakes - Thinking of Leif

I've been cleaning up my office in preparation for a visit from my granddaughters, who "get" to sleep in there on the floor on an air mattress, and I keep finding more reminders of Leif, little things, a photo here and there, a computer trackball, the zippered case with software for the computer he built in about 2003. Sometimes finding those things brings a smile and some memory I hadn't thought of in a long time, sometimes they bring sadness that he's no longer here. It will always be that way, but I'm getting a lot better at looking at the wonder of having had him in my life for 33 years and not always turn to the sadness of losing him.

When the boys were still young enough to be living at home, we made pancakes on Sunday morning. Homemade ones, measured from scratch, and the boys enjoyed helping mix the batter. It was a Sunday tradition, kind of a ritual, that we all liked and looked forward to. You see, I started them young. :) This photo was taken in Charlottesville, Virginia when Leif was two years old. I loved those times together.

Reading to Leif - July 1976 - Manhattan, Kansas - Age 1.5 years

I loved to read to my sons. Ever since I learned to read in the first grade it has been one of the joys of my life. I read passionately and voraciously as a child. I grew up without television, so my stories came from books. I've always treasured reading time, and most especially, all the years I read to my sons.

Of course I read to them at bed time, but not just then. We also shared books just about any old time. And not just when they were little fellows. I read to them until they were in junior high, and only quit when homework, sports and other things intervened and made it impossible, though even then I continued to read things aloud at the dinner table or in the car. I remember reading Judy Blume's "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" to the boys in the airport in Hawaii, or at least that's where we started it.

Reading together was always a special time, a teaching time, and learning time, a fun time. We read all kinds of books, fiction and nonfiction, picture books and novels.

My sister Sherie took this photo of me reading to Leif in July 1976 when she and her husband DeWayne drove down from Michigan to Kansas to see us just before we moved to Charlottesville, Virginia.