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.

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. :)

Leif's Second Christmas 1976 - Charlottesville, Virginia - Nearly 2 Years Old

When Leif was a year-and-a-half old, in the summer of 1976, we moved from Manhattan, Kansas to Charlottesville, Virginia, where we lived in a two-story townhouse on Woodlake Drive. We only lived there for one year before moving to Germany, but it was a very good year for all of us.

That year, we were fortunate to have a lot of family with us for Christmas. Leif was darling, and by that time, talking, and very, very bright. For instance, he had a "shape ball" where he could fit complex shapes into holes of the same shape. It was not only a discrimination task but also one of dexterity, as it wasn't easy to fit the shapes through the holes. He would sit there and say, "This is a hexagon. This is a trapezoid," and so on. He always got them all exactly right. I think there were at least 10, and maybe a total of 12 shapes.

He nearly had me convinced that he knew now to read, because he would carefully turn the pages of Dr. Seuss's long book, The Lorax, and recite every word that went on each page correctly. The only way I figured out that he had memorized the entire book and knew what words were on each page was by writing down words separately from the book to see if he knew them, and he didn't.

That Christmas, the favorite thing Leif got was Fluffy, the soft, stuffed dog in the photo. Fluffy was nearly as big as he was when he first got him, but very light and very cuddly. Leif loved soft cuddly things (especially cats), but Fluffy was his all time favorite stuffed animal. He loved Fluffy for years, played with him, took him everywhere. I've posted a couple of photos before of him posing Fluffy on his tricycle and sled, even with a football helmet on him.

Fluffy was a gift from Lannay, my sister, who lived about a two hour's drive away that year, at Ft. Belvoir, Virginia, and came to visit often.

Leif slept with Fluffy for years. I remember when we were moving from Germany to Japan when Leif was five years old, the summer of 1980, and I came through the USA to visit family with the boys ahead of Peter W. We flew from London to Dallas on Braniff, where we had to go through Customs and Immigration before getting on a flight to Kansas City. Like several other airlines that existed at that time, Braniff, too, is no more. Of course, Leif had to have Fluffy with him at all times, including on the plane.

While in the huge Dallas airport, alone with the boys, and struggling with luggage, I was dismayed and frustrated when Leif first took to tossing Fluffy up in the air and letting him land on the floor, as he certainly wasn't going to stay clean that way, and then he took Fluffy in his arms and took off running away from me through the crowd. This wasn't the first or last time Leif took off. He had just done it in Dartmouth, England days before. I had the lousy choice of leaving the luggage behind and asking Peter Anthony (only 11) to stay with it while I literally ran after Leif, or hollering at him and hoping he would stop. I tried both before I managed to get him to stick with me. (And then the airline lost the luggage. We never saw it again after I checked it, and we arrived in Kansas in 115 degree heat with no clothes!)

By the time we got to Japan, Fluffy was already three-and-a-half years old and looking a bit matted down, but still much loved. I don't remember how long Leif had Fluffy, but I'm pretty sure he still had him when we moved to Hawaii in 1983. At some point, Fluffy got wet and dirty. I don't remember how. He didn't dry out well and smelled bad, and Leif finally agreed to give him up.

Of the gifts Leif got for Christmas in his young life, Fluffy was one of the best and most beloved. I'll always remember him hugging and snuggling that dog on Christmas Eve 1976, looking angelic and oh, so happy.