Four Years Since We Saw Him

Today it has been four years since we last saw Leif alive. Four years ago, March 23rd was Easter, and Leif came driving down from Tampa to have dinner with us. He was relaxed and happy, in love, seemed to be taking things in stride. We had a good visit, a good discussion. I can picture him just as he was that evening, first sitting across from me at the kitchen table and later in the green recliner in the living room with his hands behind his head.

I'm glad our memories of that last precious visit are good ones, that it was a pleasant evening together, glad I gave him the $20 for gasoline, since he'd said he didn't have the money to fill up his tank to come for dinner! I wish I'd give him $100.

There was no hint that he was desperate or suicidal. In fact, it seemed just the opposite. I remember that both Peter W. and I felt he seemed better than he had at Christmas or his birthday. Either we misread him completely or something changed dramatically in the following two weeks.

It still seems unreal to me that he won't ever show up for dinner again, that he won't ever bring his laundry with him, that he won't ever send me a text message. Unreal, but I know it's true. It doesn't seem like four years could possibly have passed since the last time I saw him.
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This photo of Peter W. and Leif was taken in Puerto Rico at Hacienda Buena Vista in June 1991 when Leif was 16 years old, with his trademark Oakleys hanging around his neck, of course.

Leif Loved Boats and the Sea

I've written before about how much Leif loved boats and being on the sea . . . not swimming in it, so much, but sailing, motorboats (especially fast ones), and diving. Peter W. took this photo of Leif sometime in 1991, when they were out on a boat in the sea around Puerto Rico, maybe on a dive. I notice the diving knife strapped to Leif's leg, and of course he is wearing those Oakley sunglasses, but the shirt tied around his head is a different look for him. The color of the water in the Caribbean is so beautiful, that marvelous turquoise blue that looks to perfect with the sky and clouds. The temperature was just right, the winds soothing and balmy. Leif seems so at home.

He Lives in Dreams

A few days ago, I awoke remembering a dream about Leif. It's rare that I remember my dreams, and rarer still that I dream about Leif. In fact, I can't remember dreaming about him since early 2008, when I was so worried about him but dreamed that he was about seven feet tall and immensely strong, and that something wonderful was going to happen for him. It must have been wishful thinking, hope. I remember telling him about that dream and him laughing because I said he was built like "The Rock."

The dream I had a few days ago was quite different, though equally positive. I'm glad that if I was going to remember a dream about him that it was a happy one, with him looking young, healthy, slim and strong. He was dressed in some snappy suit, more stylish than traditional. It was a charcoal gray silk suit. Unlike some men, Leif liked to dress up, enjoyed wearing a tie.

The dream was so like him because he was happy and eager to show me this fantastic new "cell phone" he had. It wasn't like any I've ever actually seen. I wish I could have taken a photo in my mind so I could show it to you. There's something about it that makes me think of the realtime email discussion that he was having with his brother, Peter Anthony, me, and some others, on the evening before he died, about what would make the ideal watch. This gadget combined many of the attributes that Peter A. had suggested, plus more. It didn't look remotely like a phone, but actually more like a very stylish, very smooth calculator, with a sort of brushed metal case, glass screen similar to an iPhone, and some kind of trigger mechanism that reminded me of a pistol, but it wasn't a gun . . . though Leif certainly could have been the one to figure out how to combine that, too.

He was eager, happy, energetic.

It was only a dream, but he lived in it, and I will treasure that time to "see" him once again.
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This photo of Leif in his "famous" purple suit was taken in our back yard in Fort Buchanan, Puerto Rico around February 1991 when he was 16 years old. Of course he is also wearing his signature Oakley sunglasses.

A Sense of Style

Leif loved this pink "Hypercolor" shirt. He had a sort of mustard yellow Hypercolor sweatshirt, too. For awhile during our years in Puerto Rico, Hypercolor was a big fad. I still have two of my shirts, though they no longer change color. The tie-dye feature reminded me of the 70s. The flared "weight-lifter" pants with the narrow ankles were "in," too, in wild prints. I don't know whether the same things were all the rage on the US mainland at the time or not, and it seemed to me that the styles in Puerto Rico were a little more colorful and flamboyant, at least for the young.

Leif was right in step, wearing the ragged blue jeans and the wild print weight-lifter pants, an earring, "cool" shirts, Oakley sunglasses, and necklaces. This photo of him was taken somewhere on the island of Puerto Rico on an outing but I can't place it exactly. It was in November 1991 when Leif was 16 going on 17.

Leif was a stylish dresser until he was got out of the army. When he gained weight, he couldn't get into a lot of the clothing he had worn when he was younger, and he was always financially strapped. I don't know whether he didn't continue to dress with flare because his taste had changed, whether he was depressed and didn't care, or whether he just didn't have the money to dress the way he wanted to. He did spend a lot of money on his motorcycle jackets and boots, and just the day before he died he bought an expensive pair of shoes, but I think most of his money was going to support his debts and living expenses. We often gave him shirts as gifts, so he had some nice ones, but he gained so much weight that he didn't have the figure to show off the kind of style he once had. I wish I had seen him dressed to the nines one more time.

Leif at the beach in Puerto Rico

Leif loved the beach all his life, though without a companion here in Florida he rarely went. When he was with us, we had a beach vacation every year but for three years we lived in Hawaii and went to the beach often, and for two years we lived in Puerto Rico and went to the beach now and then, especially when Leif and Peter W. were SCUBA diving.

This photo was taken on the beach in Puerto Rico, probably Luquillo Beach, in February 1991. We had been in Puerto Rico for six months and Leif was 16 years old.

I look at these photos and I'm so grateful I have them, so glad to have a record of his life. The last couple of days I've been in a kind of funk of sadness on and off. The questions I had put out of my mind for a time came back to haunt me, and I am acutely aware that we are coming to the third anniversary of his death in April. For some reason having another year pass is very hard. The knowledge reinforces the finality of his death.

Peter W. is again talking about how Leif had so many things that should have given him a good life . . . good looks, height, a strong and happy family background, brilliant intelligence . . . and he asks how this could have happened. I reply that with all Leif's gifts, he was somehow cursed with the same misery that took my father's life, and my father's aunt's life. I find that some days it hits me and I can't get past it. He was and is so much a part of our lives that I don't think we will ever really be over it.

Leif and El Morro - San Juan, Puerto Rico - Ages 16 and 17

One of the places in San Juan, Puerto Rico that we would all remember is the fortress of San Felipe del Morro, which people just call El Morro (the rock). It is a huge Spanish Fortress dating back to the sixteenth century. Approaching it via the expansive park grounds is beautiful but doesn't give one the full scope of it's enormous size. Near it are a famous cemetery and the School of Fine Arts (Escuela des Artes Plasticas). You can see El Morro in the background of one of the photos of Leif and the art school in another one, and I've included a photo of El Morro I took from the ship and one of the art school taken on the cruise I went on last week. The other photos of Leif show him on the walls of El Morro, a place he found very impressive. I wonder if visiting it, and some of the other places we visited in his childhood and youth, helped to further his interest in belonging to SCA and his fascination with swords.

Leif was sixteen in the photos of him at El Morro in 1991, and he's wearing his trademark Oakley sunglasses and the current fad in clothing at the time. The guys pushed their pants up to just below the knee and their socks down to the ankles and showed off their hairy calves. They were also fond of "muscle" shirts. The other photo, with El Morro behind Leif across the bay, was taken in 1992 at the time the tall ships sailed into San Juan harbor to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the discovery of America by Columbus. He's wearing another fad, a tie-dyed shirt that changed colors with heat and sunlight. he was seventeen.

Another Anniversary

Sunday, June 6th was our 45th anniversary. We've had a wonderful marriage, one which Leif envied and would like to have emulated. I am thankful for all those years of happiness with Peter, and grateful that our love was strong enough to last through the grief of losing our son.

In May, I got a card from my cousin, Marji, with two photos she found in her father's things, photos that were taken when Peter W., Leif and I visited her and my Uncle Jerry in June 1991. I had never seen these photos before and I am so glad to have them. This photo was taken on June 6, 1991, our 26th anniversary, when we were with them in Oregon. We had a wonderful trip and it was so good seeing them after so many years. It was the second time that Leif met his Great Uncle Jerry, my father's only sibling, and the last time as well, and the first and only time he met Marji .

He was 16 years old and just starting to grow his hair long. He's wearing those trademark Oakley sunglasses, and his stylish Hypercolor T-shirt and those weight-lifter pants that showed off his figure so well. He's already towering over his handsome father.

He enjoyed the trip as much as we did. We flew to Oregon after attending Peter Anthony's graduation from the Air Force Academy. Uncle Jerry took us to see Mt. St. Helens and Multnomah Falls.

That summer, Leif was tall, slim and handsome, and felt like he was coming into his own. I love to think of him that way.

We went on a short cruise for this 45th anniversary and it was great, but coming home as always brings back memories and missing Leif, especially when we pass the turn-off that would go to where he lived, especially when we see all the things he brought into our house or that we ended up with when he died. For some reason, I've had a hard time with it today. Sadness comes back, no matter how much we try to escape it.

Leif With His Hair in One Great Spike - Fort Buchanan, Puerto Rico - Age 16

Speaking of Leif's sense of humor and fun . . .
and a bit of silliness . . .

These photos were taken in March 1991 when we were living at Fort Buchanan, Puerto Rico. Leif was sixteen years old.

I no longer remember what he had in his hair that allowed him to make it stand up like this in a point, but it wasn't something he wore out anywhere. It was just a silly and whimsical thing he did for fun at home and then washed it out. He had fun posing for the photos.

I don't know why he was wearing the ring on the chain around his neck, and I find it rather surprising to see him wearing a cross, as he never professed to be a Christian.

Of course, the sunglasses are his favorite Oakleys.

He always had a sense of mischief and fun and he didn't really want to grow up, if growing up meant he had to behave in a staid and boring way, though he learned to act professional when he needed to and came across as a very calm, clear-minded person in a crisis. Yet, in one way he never really did grow up, and that was being able to control his spending.

I've gone along for several days without being down in the dumps or crying until yesterday. It was one of those unexpected triggers that brought tears welling up in my eyes. Peter W. was reading some of those cute sayings you see on everything from hand towels to magnets in boutique stores and we were getting a laugh out of them. Then he read that whenever a child is born, a grandmother is born, too. I don't know what about that got to me, but even typing it again brings a reaction. Maybe it's that I will never be "born" a grandmother again with Leif's children. Maybe it's just missing Leif. I'm okay. I'm not staying sad or depressed, but the emotions come welling up at unexpected times.

Leif and His Gargoyles - Greenbelt MD - June 1990

On that same trip to the Virginia-Washington DC area when we visited my sister, Lannay, Leif had a good time playing with his younger cousin, Jacquie, who was five-and-a-half years old then. He was great with little kids and had been popular with the neighborhood kids at Fort Sheridan, where we had just lived, as "Big Al."

The lower photo shows Leif with his first pair of expensive sunglasses, an item that was to become a "trademark item" with him. These were Gargoyles, which I think he was introduced to by an Arnold Schwartzenegger movie. He spent a mint on them, something we certainly didn't understand.

Later, when he decided that Oakleys were more stylish and "cool" he gave the Gargoyles to either his dad or his brother.

These photos were taken in June 1990 when Leif was fifteen years old.

Jerri, Peter Anthony & Leif - US Air Force Academy - May 1991

We were extraordinarily proud of Peter Anthony's acceptance to and graduation from the U.S. Air Force Academy, and no doubt visits to the Academy while Leif was in junior high and high school continued to excite him about a career in the Air Force like his brother, though Leif wasn't willing to compete academically for a spot at the Academy. I don't know whether at that time he had thought about Air Force ROTC, but I do know how much he wanted to be a pilot in the Air Force.

Ironically, Peter A. hadn't pursued an appointment to the Academy specifically to become a pilot, but he did become one, and that route was barred to Leif due to his nearsightedness.

This photo was taken of me, Peter Anthony and Leif in May 1991 when we were in Colorado Springs at the Academy for Peter Anthony's graduation. It was gorgeous weather and we had a wonderful time. There were ceremonies, parades, dress balls (fancy dances) and more. We flew there from Puerto Rico and were joined by my mother, my brother Donovan, and my sister Lannay, as well as friends from Hawaii and more. Note Leif's signature Oakley sunglasses.

Peter Anthony is still serving his country as an Air Force officer and is now a lieutenant colonel.

By this time (1991), Leif could dream about the Air Force in other ways, but he already knew he could not fly. In earlier visits to the Academy, I'm sure he still ahd those dreams. Leif was just completing his sophomore year in high school in this photo and was 16 years old.

Leif could easily have starred academically. He was brilliant, and he could get through school, including college, without taking notes or studying. He hated studying and homework and all the things that went with achieving academically, and he aimed for a B average and that's what he got.

His reasoning was that he wanted to be above average (and get the good student discount on our auto insurance that we told him he had to have if he wanted to drive), but wasn't willing to put in the time and effort to get As. He wanted to spend his time on other things, or as he put it, "to have a life."

We could never convince him to do otherwise, and it's a shame, because he wanted to meet "smart people," but didn't want to get into the kinds of classes or activities were he actually could do so. He would have been outstanding in several fields as long as he could do the practical, actual things of the work world, but he could never get there because he wasn't willing to punch the academic tickets needed.

He admitted one time that he probably should have gone into science, for his mind excelled at scientific concepts, but he wasn't willing to take the math courses required.

How I wish that today's world would have had more possibilities for a man like him with a mind and abilities but without a formal education to get him in the door. (He did have a bachelor's degree in general social science, but that is not a degree in demand in fields that would have been good for him.)

Leif with his "famous" Oakleys - Puerto Rico 1991 - Age 16

You'd think that after all the times I've mentioned Leif's Oakley sunglasses I'd have a whole series of photos with him wearing them, but I don't. I found another one with them hanging from his neck, and I think there are a couple more, but not many.

This was his first pair, and he accessorized them with different colored top bars, nose pieces and ear pieces, all in neon colors. As a grown man, he still went for stylish, expensive eyewear, but his most recent pair of Oakleys were more conservative.

Leif generously gave his "hand-me-down" cool stuff, sunglasses or techie stuff like cell phones, to us. When he "graduated" to Oakleys from Gargoyles, he gave the Gargoyles to his dad, but I don't think they were quite his style and he didn't wear them. Then Leif bought a new pair of Oakleys for Peter W. for either Christmas or birthday, and he still has them, though he rarely wears them.

As a high school student, like he was in this photo at age 16 in Puerto Rico, Leif had an allowance that was supposed to cover entertainment, incidents, haircuts, school lunches and the like. It was based on a budget with enough extra for some fun and entertainment like movies with friends.

It was all spelled out in a "contractual agreement" which we both signed. I made contracts for all kinds of things with my sons. (Leif told me recently he thought I ought to write a book about it because he thought it was a good idea.) I liked the formality of it and having terms clear, none of that, "Well I thought you said," or "I thought you meant," or "You never said that."

Leif knew very well what his allowance was supposed to cover, but if he wanted to buy something and hadn't saved up the money for it, or hadn't gotten gift money for his birthday or something else like that, he would simply go spend his allowance on it and do without all the rest for the remainder of the month, even if it meant he had to go without lunch or skip some fun with friends. He got what he wanted and was willing to put up with the inconveniences of doing without other things. And he figured out how to save more money by not cutting his hair, just letting it grow long, to that luxurious hair he had as a high school senior.

The trouble with that was that I think he tried to continue that same way of spending as an adult and it didn't work with bills to pay. (Though he continued to save money on haircuts by shaving his head.)

Leif - The Purple Suit & The Sculptor - 1992

In high school, Leif became a snappy dresser with his own sense of distinctive style. When he wasn't wearing the the in-style ragged jeans and combat boots, he liked unusual styles, particularly two suites, one a sort of silver/gray the other purple, and he looked terrific in them.

This photo was taken in our back yard in Puerto Rico. Note the Oakley sunglasses, one of several pairs he owned over the years. I found one in his belongings after he died.

That yard was surrounded by a ring of 29 coconut palms and was very hard to mow. Leif got that job, and he didn't like it. However, I wish I had a photo of him out there, bare to the waist, long hair streaming, with his machete stuck into a coconut he had just lopped the end off of, holding it in the air with the machete and drinking the juice by pouring it down his throat. He looked like a very well-built Tarzan.

I chose this photo because of an analogy Peter made today. He said it's as though we had what we thought was a perfect piece of marble and spent 33 years sculpting it, and then found it had a fatal flaw that would cause it to disintegrate.

I thought a lot about that today, but the analogy isn't quite right. It's more as though we had about 20 years to sculpt the beautiful statue, and then had to put it out into the public garden, where vandals worked for years to destroy it and finally managed to do so.

I say that because Leif suffered greatly. He was betrayed by people he loved. He was treated with terrible unfairness and cruelty in the army because of his asthma. He suffered heartbreaking loneliness and depression.

Although the rest of Shakepeare's speech doesn't fit, the line "he loved not wisely but too well" certainly fits Leif. He had great love to give, but he chose unwisely and those he loved broke his heart.

Leif had flaws. They contributed to his loneliness and depression, but as I learn about depression, I see that many of those flaws were symptoms of it.

Yet in so many ways, he WAS the beautiful statue, the beautiful mind. He was brilliant, though he never found a focus and sense of purpose for that mind. He was handsome. He was kind. He was funny. He had a social conscience. He cared deeply about his country.

When this photo was taken, he could have been a model, posed for the cover of romance novels, but although he dressed the part, he never had the artifice to be the ladies' man . . . and indeed, what he really wanted most of all in life was a loyal, loving soulmate, the protector of his heart.

How I wish he had found her!