Another Movie Leif Would Have Loved

One of the things Leif and his dad had in common was a love of movies, and their tastes were generally quite similar, and also quite eclectic. Since Peter continues to watch a lot of movies, it's frequently a way that we are reminded of Leif, particularly when it's a movie we know he would really have enjoyed.

Leif also had a great sense of humor and loved whacky stuff. One of the things he and I had in common was an odd sense of humor and one of his compliments for me was, "Mom, you're weird.:

A few days ago, Peter W. said he thought I needed to take a break and watch a good comedy. So often, movies he checks out that purport to be comedies aren't the least bit funny to me, so I was dubious. He said we were going to watch "The Ugly Truth." When I asked him what it was about, he couldn't tell me. He requests movies by the popularity lists for moves that are new on DVD and often doesn't really know what they are.

So, I sat down in the living room without high expectations . . . and soon found myself laughing out loud and saying how much Leif would have enjoyed this movie.

If you've been reading this blog all along, and you saw this movie, you would know why that's so without me having to say another word. Mike Chadway (played by Gerard Butler) has a television show telling women how to understand and date men, and he does so in very graphic, crude and somewhat cynical terms . . . and yet he's right on in a number of ways that Leif wrote about. Of course, it's fairly one-dimensional, which Leif would have agreed with, too, saying that men have to learn about intimacy.

The female lead, Abby (played by Katherine Heigl) is a tv producer and control freak who can't stand what Mike is dishing out but in the end agrees to try his advice to land a date with a "dreamboat." It works, but in the end, somewhat predictably, Mike and Abby fall for each other.

It's cute, funny, and spouts a lot of things guys will recognize, and it's quite entertaining. Leif would have been laughing uproariously and making a lot of comments. He wouldn't in the least have minded the graphic language.

I know that there will always be these moments when Peter and I look at each other and say, "Leif would have loved that," and wished we could share it with him as we did in the past.
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This photo of Leif was taken at the City of Refuge on the Big Island of Hawaii in the summeer of 1983. He was eight years old and we were just moving to Hawaii.

"Brilliant Thoughts on the Sexes #2"

This was the second installment of Leif's discourse on sex roles. I think when he talks about learning these things as a child, he was talking about his experiences in high school in particular. That was in the macho culture of Puerto Rico. He certainly didn't learn these lessons in our household.

More Brilliant Thoughts
by Leif Garretson
June 29, 2001

Ok. Now for the men talking to women thing. First a crash course in what it is like to be a man.

Lessons learned as a child:

1. Men don't cry. (exceptions for deaths of family members or women dumping them)
2. Men don't talk about their feelings (at least not to other men with above exceptions)
3. Men aren't supposed to be sensitive.
4. All men are potential enemies.
5. All men will look for weakness in other men for later exploitation (even friends).
6. You can never trust another man.
7. Competition between men, even friends will never cease.
8. You can never relax around other men for they will be watching for you to fuck up.
9. At best a man may be your comrade but never truly a friend.
10. A man may be your ally, but never forget that like with separate countries, treaties can be broken and war can always be declared.

Ok, now you know the basics of what it means to be a man. Now, how does it relate to you as a woman? Well, none of those rules apply to women.

First off, #1 crying. You can't imagine how much I envy women the ability to cry without shame. Even when we are alone we are so conditioned not to that it is difficult for us to release emotional pain. We feel so ashamed that we can't even do in front of ourselves. But a woman changes things. The ideal mate is part lover, part daughter, and part mother. In this case it is the mother that we need. The one person that never judged us or told us we were wimps when we were hurting. If a man can find a woman that he loves, trusts and is comfortable enough with that he can cry in her lap, then he has found something priceless, because that woman will not judge him harshly for it. She will be able to comfort him not only for his pain but for his shame at showing such weakness.

This weekend before the wedding S and L were fighting and the first thing I saw of her she came right to me without saying a word, put her arms around me, her head on my shoulder and started to cry. Two thoughts went though my head, other than concern. First, I was very flattered that she chose my shoulder to cry on, and while I hated to see her sad, it felt really good to know that after a year apart and after me and N splitting up S still loves and trusts me enough to come to me like that. And second, I envied her the ability to show pain and admit being hurt, not only to me but the the others that were witnesses.

#2 Believe it or not, we do have feelings. We just aren't very good at expressing them since we aren't supposed to talk about them. We often don't have the vocabulary, don't know the language. But if a man finds a woman that he can talk to and can learn to communicate then she will be the one irreplaceable outlet for his feelings.

#3 Sensitivity: men can be sensitive and they can be hurt but they will never admit that to another man. Women take for granted all the things that you can do with each other or with men. You can be yourselves a lot more than we can. You can cry. You can be hurt. You can be easily upset. We are only allowed to have one emotion and that is anger. It is ok for us to be pissed off but we can't be sad or hurt or weak, so we bottle that all up and store it. The only release we have for any of that is our mate.

#4,5,6,7,8,9, & 10 Men do not consider women to be a threat. The game, if you will, the battlefield, is populated by men. Women are not included in the rules. Unfortunately, the main reason for this is that men feel superior to women. We are all a little sexist. We look at men as being on equal ground, a level playing field. But we do not see them as equals. We are always working to establish the pecking order, to determine hierarchy, to see who is the alpha male -- which is why we can never truly be friends or truly trust and open up. Cuz, if we are the beta and we soften to the alpha, then that reinforces our subjugation to him as a superior. If we are the alpha, the softening in front of the beta will give him encouragement to assert his position over us and vie for the alpha spot. It is basic animal psychology and no matter how advanced, we are still animals. We still do what all mammals do. But a woman does not fall into this game because while I see women as symbiotic equals to men that exist in combination for common benefit, each using their different abilities to compliment the others' shortcomings, but in this sense men judge their worth in terms of strength.

And in those terms, women are simply inferior. Pay attention to what I said! By the standard of strength, women are inferior, and that is the standard men use to judge ourselves. By that standard, women are not threats because we can kick your ass. A woman is not going to oust me for the alpha spot because she neither can't nor would care to do so if she could. So what do I have to worry about showing weakness to her? And to further that point, women show weakness constantly, so even if we became blubbering idiots we would still be stronger (by the male standard) than the women.

Now please make sure that you are not reading more into this than I have written. I think that in an emotional sense women may be stronger and better equipped to handle emotional pain. In addition, women may lean on each other and draw strength from each other in times of need. Men do not. May not. You may have heard the saying "no man is an island." Well, actually we are. We are just islands that are close enough to trade, but ultimately we are alone.

Women are like seas in the same ocean. They flow together and draw strength from each other’s waves. We men, we islands, can have a love affair with the ocean but the other islands will never caress our beaches with their waves. (wow that is a cool analogy. I am proud of myself :-) So when a relationship ends, whether it is a breakup, or worst of all, death, I think it is harder on the man (unless he did the leaving). A woman can lean on her friends. She can grieve with them. She can cry on their shoulders. But if the man is left alone he is truly alone. The woman he lost was likely the only person he could talk to, the only person he could trust, the only shoulder he could cry on.

To continue my analogy, if an island sinks into the ocean the seas will still have currents between them; they will not be alone. But if
the water recedes from the land the islands are left behind and can only stare at the other lonely peaks. Ever notice that you hear a lot more stories about old men dying of a broken heart after losing their wives than the reverse? Now you know why.

This concludes my brilliant thoughts for the night. :-x Leif

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Starting when he was first old enough to notice then, Leif loved vehicules of all kinds, but especially beautifully designed machines that went extremely fast. Here he is posing by a very fancy speed boat at a lake in Japan when he was about 5 years old.

"Brilliant Thoughts About the Sexes"

Brilliant Thoughts on the Sexes
by Leif Garretson
June 29, 2001

"There are three parts to the male psyche, the first being the brain. The brain is hard to please (at least for some of us). It needs to find stimulation that is at least of an approximately equal level (so us smart guys got it tough). The brain is the balance between the others and has veto power over all decisions. However, that power is rarely used when it is being bullied by the much louder voices of the other two.

The brain's greatest enemy is boredom. If the brain is not entertained then it will begin to complain to the others. If the others are having too much fun themselves then those complaints will not mean much, but in time the others will likely lose enthusiasm and relent in search of a better mate for all.

Second is the Libido, or more simply the dick. The dick is simple. It is relatively easy to please. However it is very difficult to satisfy. It always wants more, and more, and more; the dick is never silent except when it has been recently pleased. Otherwise it is constantly pestering the brain to get it what it wants. The brain helps to guide the dick as best as it can and they do attempt to cooperate. However, often times the incessant pestering of the dick will wear the brain down and he will give in even if he is not really that interested.

This happens even more when drunk, as alcohol affects the brain the most. At this time, though, the heart can get in the way because it is often afraid, since it gets the brunt of disappointment, for it is the only one with the capacity to hope. But if it can be convinced then both will give in so that the dick will shut up.

Finally there is the heart, and it is normally the quietest but when it sees something it wants, really wants, then it has the loudest voice and the other two do not dare challenge it. It is more patient than the other two and can wait a long time for what it needs. However, it can either bounce around brightening the others’ day with it's excitement, or sulk around bumming the others out with it's longing. Because of its patience it often indulges the other two and allows them to have their fun while it waits for its ultimate goal.

To put a case in point, I am patient and will wait and hope for you since you are one of a very few women that have hit me in all three. But that does not mean that my heart will deprive the guys above and below of the cute joggers that live next door while I am waiting for you to dump whatshisname. If a girl is lucky to win over two she is doing well but if you get all three then he will be yours for as long as you continue to satisfy all three.

To do this you must first please his heart by making him feel loved and wanted. Please his mind by stimulating him and entertaining him as well as have your shit together so that his brain isn't forced to veto you because you are ruining his future. And finally, you have to make sure that his dick get satisfied at least often enough that he's unwilling to risk the dry spells of single life in order to pursue someone more willing to satisfy him.

So simplified: don't f--- up his practical life and keep him entertained and you will have his mind. Make sure he gets laid enough that he doesn't start looking for someone else to pick up your slack. And don't bore the dick either. Try new things :-)

And finally, for the heart: make him feel loved and make him feel needed. They are different. For example, a hug can be given or taken, offered or accepted. If you have a bad day and you come to him for a hug, that is you asking for love from him to fill you up. While he will feel needed and be glad to do it, remember that you should also offer a hug when you can to fill him back up.

Let him know that you don't just want affection when you need it. Then you will seem Needy and a drain and then he will not want to give you hugs because it feels like he is giving and giving and not getting it back. Then you will think that he does not want to touch you but it is not that; it is that you seem to him like an emotional leach.

Try giving love when you don't need it. I love to be touched and I love hugs and kisses, but I want to be on the receiving end sometimes, too. If, for example, she had come up behind me while I was sitting here typing and had put her arms around me and given me a kiss just cuz she wanted to show me she loved me, then I would get a warm fuzzy and feel much better. I would be receiving love and would then be a lot more receptive the next time she needed some loving.

Also, men don't tend to do the asking when they need emotional support. It is a macho thing so, take initiative cuz we need it just as much as you do. We are just supposed to act like we don't.

You may have heard the whole men going into their cave when they are mad or sad thing. Well, it is true, but it is hard to tell the difference between a man that needs to be alone and a man that needs to be comforted. So the best advice is to try to be affectionate, even ask if you should leave him alone and if he turns you away, do not be insulted or hurt. He just needs to be alone.

But if he does not turn you away you will win big points. A man’s default emotion when he is upset is anger. That is what you will see, and don't think that that means he is unapproachable (unless you are the reason he is angry; then a completely different rule book comes out). Try to be nice to him and if the problem is something else and he is not too pissed to respond, he will likely soften and feel much better.

And if you really wanna be good and he really is in a foul or surly mood, try a massage. If he turns you down on that one, leave him alone for about an hour cuz he must be really really pissed about something. Or for extra browny points, sex is a real winner. The man who says no is likely struggling to suppress homicidal urges.

Anyway, we can discuss this more later if you like. I will give you the next dissertation in a different email."

Another Short-Term Love Begins

In June 2005, at roughly the same time Leif was writing to J about the end of their relationship and to his friend about his wild ride around Tampa Bay on his motorcycle, he struck up a correspondence with LA, a woman he met through an online dating service. I say "met," but they didn't actually meet until they had corresponded and talked on the phone for well over a month. This was to be Leif's new mode, spending a lot of time getting to know a woman before he was willing to meet her in person. This woman was a very prolific correspondent and he seemed to love it. The email between them was by far the most I saw him write to anyone. She brought out a willingness to express himself that I didn't see with anyone else, at least not to that extent. And, he quickly began to hope for a real love and romance again. After only corresponding for about a week, he wrote the message below to her.

July 3, 2005

Now its my turn to babble at you while a bit out of my mind. I have had a a few drinks and am tired and am freed of my inhibitions and logical nature. This will be one of the times you get to hear my thoughts without the filter of goal oriented, logical reasonisng. Enjoy and and try not t hold it against me or take too much advantage.

I know I have been telling you not to get your hopes up but I should be telling that to myself instead. I am not sure what it is but I have an instinct about you and I think we may have something. Despite my better judgement I am getting my hopes up. I have waited so long to meet a woman I could be happy with. Have I told you that I think that the most brilliant symbol in the universe is the Yin Yang? That is such a profound sybollic image for me, a full circle made of two parts, each flowing into the other, each one half of the whole; complete opposite, but each having a little of the other inside them so they can understand each other. But therwise opposites. Neither is complete alone.

That is how I have always felt. Like I was a Yang looking for a Yin. I am a brilliant man, tall, strong, and some say good looking. I am very smart and educated. Talented, and from what I hear, pretty good in bed. I am on one hand one hell of a guy.

On the other hand.....

I am a complete mess.

I am a horrible bachelor. I hate cleaning. I am totally inept at all things domestic. My bedroom is covered with piles of clean clothes that I will likely never fold. My kitchen will always be full of dishes that need to be done. I am on one hand very independent and impressive, and on the other a completely hopeless mess that needs a woman to take care of me.

I like the idea that two people can take care of each other, that a man can care for and support and provide for a woman and she can make a home for him and their children. I have much more respect for a woman that can be a good wife and mother than one that can be a CEO of a company. Not that women can't do such things, and not that I wouldn't respect a woman that chose to or doubt their capability, but I believe that the feminine tasks often considered "Women's work" are some of the most noble and valuable tasks in society.

I believe that the most perfect relationship we could hope for is one where each person takes care of the other, performing all the tasks that the other is not suited for.

Yes, he should have been telling himself not to get his hopes up, but as I've written before, once something "clicked" with a woman, he was racing ahead in his hopes and dreams, wishing so hard that he'd found the one who could be the person he was writing about above, the one who could make a home for him, give him something to come home TO, someone to work for, someone to complete him.

One of the other things he discovered in the course of this correspondence was how fulfilling it was to find a woman who was intelligent and literate. Here's what he had to say about it:

I never used to think that was a priority to me, having an intelligent mate. Friends told me it was what I needed but to be perfectly honest, and a the risk of sounding a bit arrogant, I am *($(%*&ing brilliant. I think I already told you that I test at between a 120 and 140 IQ, so I am used to being smarter than everyone around me. The only woman I have ever known that can match my intellect is my own mother, which in combinaton with my father's very strange and different sort of brilliance, produced my mind.

I never made finding a smart woman a priority because intelligent conversation was not something that I necessarily needed from a mate, if you can understand that. I can get philosophical discussion from a platonic friend. What I need from a woman is physical and emotional intimacy.

The problem I did run into, though, which I didn't foresee, is that on some level I did not have the same respect for women that I felt to be my intellectual and educational inferiors. While I never did anything to deliberately make any of them feel inferior, I would just be myself and some women, including my ex wife, would not understand what I was talking about, and as she said to me, "I feel stupid when I am around you," which is not something I want to hear. I don't want to hear that me being myself makes my significant other feel bad about herself.

By July 17th, he was falling in love with a woman he had never met, thinking already about a future together. In typical Leif fashion, he wrote things to her when he was drunk, when his inhibitions were loosened. Leif was a mellow drunk. Even when he'd had a lot to drink (and at his size and with his history of drinking, he could drink a lot without appearing drunk), he was lucid. I think one of the reasons he drank so much was to lower his inhibitions . . . and also to help himself sleep, to chase away the demons and the depression, but in the end, so much alcohol was terribly bad for his health, made him gain a lot of weight, and probably increased the depression he was trying to escape.

However, in July 2005, he was still hoping for love, falling in love fast, and writing this to LA after corresponding and talking just over three weeks. The subject line on this email was "Slightly Drunken Ramblings."

Hello My Sweet.

It is late, not  really late, but kinda late, and I am not really drunk, but kinda drunk. Just cracked my 6th Corona, which is enough to have me feeling mellow and a bit less inhibited.

Somehow I feel compelled to talk to you, though I am not sure I have anything specific to say. What does that mean? That I crave contact with you for no reason in particular. The truth is, I missed you tonight. That is a strange and bitter-sweet feeling. I have not even met you, yet I already am missing you.

Tonight I am filled with incomplete thoughts, things that are going on in my heart and mind that I can't necessarily articulate. I do have one thought in my head that is bouncing around. I seem to remember saying it to you, but then it may just be deja vu and I only thought of saying it to you.

That thought is that I want to tell you things that some other part of me says I should not. It is that the part that remembers all those stories saying how you do not reveal to much and never admit to anything so that you can maintain power etc., all those bullshit games that people play to get what they want according to what players of the dating game tell us what we are supposed to do. Don't reveal to much. Don't give up control, don't be too enthusiastic. I HATE THAT!!!

I have always hated the game. Hated the bullshit maneuvering, manipulation, and defense mechanisms that people use to try and get what they want without ever exposing themselves or relinquishing control. Never give up the advantage. I am sick of it. Does no one know how to be honest anymore? Does no one have the courage? I suppose not. I have been guilty of romantic cowardice on many occasions.

So that part of me is trying to tell me that I should keep my mouth shut and maintain the advantage. That may be the way to play things if I was looking for a piece of ass but I feel something different with you. The very thought of not being honest with you disgusts me right now.

Pause, sorry if I am rambling or if this is a bit random and disorganized, but as I said, this is not a coherent thought. I am just typing what comes to me.

Anyway, what I am getting at is that I feel a real connection to you. My rational mind tells me I am nuts and that I should not put much stock in this but my heart is in another place. You said you had a feeling about us. Women's intuition. I, too, have a feeling, a feeling I often try not to indulge.

I suppose that after my last relationship with J, where I got my heart broken so badly, I am wary of getting my hopes up. I don't ever want to feel that way again. Yet I can't deny what I am feeling with you and that my instincts tell me there is really something here.

So anyway, I am rambling again. What I am trying to say is that I have a powerful feeling about you. I am, despite myself, very hopeful about what may become of us. I have often dreamed and hoped that I might one day meet that perfect girl that could complete me, that could fulfill me and give me everything I need and want, and who needed and wanted everything that I could give. But now I am on one hand elated that I just might have found her, and terrified that this could just be a cruel joke played by the fates.

I hope this is not a dream that will not be. On the other hand, I have many thoughts that are quite premature and things that few men would ever acknowledge. I picture moments in our future. Moments men are trained not to get into and images we never seem to want to admit.

I find myself lying in bed, or alone and tired and bored at work, and I have images come to me that are beautiful and wonderful but of which I have no guarantee they will ever be. When I am in bed going to sleep, I often find my arms around a pillow, imagining it is you, and imagining we have been together. I imagine what it would be like to tell you that I loved you and to have you tell me so also. I miss saying those words and meaning it. I love the thought that if we do work out that someday I might be saying them to you everyday. Of course I imagine making love to you but I also imagine our lives later. Imagining our wedding. Imagining you pregnant with my child.

This may be a little much. Now I worry about scaring you off. I am not insane. I am telling you things because I am conflicted between my practical self and my hopeful self.

I am suddenly fading fast. Beers gone, very sleepy. Bottom line, LA, is that you are special to me and I have a very strong feeling about you. I want to write more but I must crash. I hope that you will value this uninhibited glimpse into my mind.

Leif.

Despite all his love of gadgets and guns, his need for speed, his cars and motorcycles, deep inside Leif was an old-fashioned romantic looking for an old-fashioned relationship, one of love and rather traditional roles . . . but he would have wanted a woman who could tolerate those aspects of his personality that would have been challenging, and I wonder if he could have curbed them, or moderated his drinking. Perhaps. Sometimes it is love that makes things change. We will never know.
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The photo of Leif was taken May 31, 2003 in Dover, Delaware at his brother's home where we were holding a surprise family reunion in honor of Leif's grandmother's 85th birthday. He had just graduated from Kansas State University and was opening his graduation gift from his brother. He was 28 years old.

Telling Her Why Men Are Happy With "Real" Women

After Leif wrote to J about what happened to him after she left him, which I posted last, she replied some days later. She told him she often ran from the things that would make her the happiest and from commitment, and that she also ran because she couldn't believe he loved her. She was insecure about her looks and figure, and those insecurities were made worse because Leif had a large collection of pictures of "hot chicks," to whom she didn't think she could compare. His reply explains a lot about his own (and some other men's) psychology, and trust Leif to find a way to compare choosing a woman to choosing a car!

However, the end of this letter is terribly poignant. Leif, the hurt man who was so devastated by her leaving him and breaking the engagement, does is best to make her believe she is wonderful and worthy of love.

Thursday, June 30, 2005, 12:11 AM

It's funny reading this and then looking at pics of you. I understand what you were feeling but I look at the pics from Christmas, or Thanksgiving at my grandma's, and of you in that gorgeous black dress you wore to the WWC party and I just can't help but think how beautiful you looked. Women are always so much more critical of themselves than men ever are. I was so in love with you and I thought you were gorgeous. I remember reading things from your ex and he said things to you that were similar about the beauty of seeing you as a mother - when you thought you were fat.

It is cruel that women are tormented so.

Let me try to give you some perspective, because while you certainly have some demons to vanquish your appearance should be the least of them. I always loved looking at you, touching you, and was completely in love with you.

But as to guys looking at and fantasizing about these models and porn stars and such, surely you knew someone growing up that had a poster of a Ferrari or Lamborghini on his wall. What guy hasn't had dreams of having such a car? Every teenage boy had a poster of a hot car at some point in his life. It is a dream, a fantasy, and that is all.

In reality men drive Hondas and Chevys and Fords and they love their cars. When a man goes shopping for a car it is no different than shopping for a wife. He has many choices. There are sedans, SUVs, sports cars. There are many different models and sizes in each category from many makers. Inevitably he choses one, and in most cases it is not a Lamborghini.

Now I know what you are gonna say. They can't afford the Lamborghini. And to some extent that is true, just like most men aren't rich and famous enough to date a super model. There is that factor, but there is more than that.

Even if we could afford such a car, would we really chose to own one? What would it really be like? I will tell you. One, you can never be comfortable with it. You will always worry, worry that as hot as it is, someone will steal it away from you. Worried that someone will run a shopping cart into it. Worried it will get wrecked. Always worried, because it is too remarkable to just enjoy and be happy with.

Also, it is expensive. The insurance is crazy. It's high maintenance, expensive parts and up keep. And impractical. Can't do anything real with it because it is so exotic and fragile

No, realistically men like their Hondas and Chevys and Fords. They are HAPPY with them. But don' t think that if a Ferrari pulls up along side they aren't going to check it out. They are going to look and say, “Wow, look at that thing!” But if someone asked them, “Would you trade your beloved Mustang GT for a Ferrari and all that would go with owning it, most would be tempted but in the end they would say, “No, I got a good thing going here. Not going to mess it up.”

It is the same with women.

Looking at a hot girl is like looking at a hot car, but when we think about being with her, it's just like the hot car, a fantasy; but the reality wouldn't be that great. You'd always be paranoid that she would leave you for some Brad Pitt type. A woman like that is always getting offers from other men. Do you trust her enough and are you confident enough in her love that she wouldn't find someone better than you?

You talk about your insecurities about your body. Do you have any idea how nuts and paranoid my flabby ass would be if I was dating Angelina Jolie? I would be insane with jealousy, afraid that any minute she would find a better looking man and leave me for Brad Pitt. I would not be able to even feel safe or secure or content in her love for me. You never want your woman to be significantly hotter than you or "out of your league," so to speak, because you will always be waiting for the day she will wake up and realize she can do better.

Men look at hot girls like they look at hot cars. They like the idea of them but not the reality. In reality they want a match for themselves, a normal girl for a normal guy, one they can feel comfortable and secure with, and when they have that wonderful feeling of love and satisfaction they would not trade it for the hottest girl in the world because enticing as that may be, she is but a dream and dreams are not meant to last.

I loved you because with you I had a feeling I had never felt before and it was wonderful and I wanted it to last the rest of my life. I was in love with you and I thought you were beautiful, not just your flesh but your soul.

I have dated many women since we broke up. Many are good people but I compare all of them to you and none measure up. I have had sex with many of them but it is always a mediocre experience. It's like I am going through he motions but I am never really into it. It is flat, empty and unfulfilling. After the magical lovemaking I remember with you, it's just sex, and not even good sex.

But anyway, the point of this is to make you understand that you should not think so poorly of yourself. If nothing else, read these words and believe them as they are the truth. I loved you just the way you were. I picked out the gorgeous ring and gave it to you because I wanted to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you just the way you were. I have never been as happy in my entire life as those few months when you loved me, and I have never been so sad in my life as when you took that away from me.

You are a beautiful and tragic person, a scarred and scared soul that deserves to be loved, if only you will have the courage to let someone love you and trust them when they say they do. You are not perfect. Who is? I am very flawed myself. I have many good qualities but I have many flaws as well. Everyone has those insecurities. There were times when I thought to myself how lucky I was to have you and how scared I was that you would leave me, as I wondered, and still wonder, if I will ever find something so wonderful again. Fears that turned out to be well founded.

Just know, J, that if nothing else there was a man that loved you just the way you were and that you don't have to be anything more. If you want to get thinner, get a boob job or whatnot for yourself, hey, do so if it would help your self esteem, but you are a beautiful person just the way you are.

Know that J. Read this sentence over and over if you have too.

Leif loved me just the way I am. Leif wanted to marry me and spend the rest of his life with me.

Keep telling yourself that 'til you start to believe it.

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The photo of Leif was taken April 4, 2004 in Manhattan, Kansas. I never liked that particular pair of glasses. Leif always wanted fashionable specs. I thought these were just kind of "evil" looking. They seemed to small for him, to me, and were bent so that they fit his face pretty much like a glove. I still have his last pair of glasses. What am I to do with them? I donated the others to the Lions Club vision program, but the last pair he had, I can't quite bring myself to part with.

The Lack of a Home

It struck me as I was recounting all of the places that Leif lived in his 33 years, and came up with 24 of them, that such instability of a home wasn't a good thing, either. As a military family, we usually had three years in one place, sometimes four, and only once, two. That meant that for the first 20 years of Leif's life, he lived in 9 places with us, and one of them was the old stone house that remained a kind of rooted base for us, that he lived in two out of the nine times I'm counting. It was after her left home that he really became peripatetic, and each time he moved it was either to find a better or cheaper place. Probably the nicest place he lived in his adult life (other than the houses we owned at 710 N. 9th Street in Manhattan or our home here in Florida) was the apartment he and Nikko had in the army housing area in Watertown, New York, but it was also one of the places he was unhappiest.

The stability in his life was always us. Nothing else remained constant or anything he could count on. I hope he felt he could count on us, but I know as a grown man he didn't want to have to.

Living in 15 places in 13 years is too much change, even if he initiated the moves. It means there is no real home, no identity or the sense of place.

Once of the things he and I once talked about was that when I was growing up and in earlier generations, girls and young women were taught that it was their responsibility to make a house a home. I know there are those who would now say that was sexist and is outmoded, but I don't think so. I do believe that it is also a man's responsibility to be a part of that, making a house a home, and I don't think what I'm talking about has much to do with whether one sex or the other does the cooking or the laundry. Household chores ought to be divided equitably and by who does them best . . . or is most willing to do them. But making a house or apartment FEEL like a home is something I still think a woman needs to do. Otherwise, a man and a woman living together are really just roommates, regardless of whether they are married or having a sexual relationship. A home is different than just sharing living space. I don't think Leif ever felt he had that kind of home. The PLACE one calls home is less important (even with a lot of moves) than the atmosphere within it.

A part of that (not the most important part, but a part) is housekeeping. As I've mentioned, Leif was a terrible housekeeper if left on his own, but would willingly work WITH someone else to clean and straighten a place up. I have a threshhold of clutter that drives me nuts and makes me depressed if I don't do anything about it. I think Leif would pass way beyond that to the point where he was depressed and it looked like such a horrible task to try to tackle the mess that he just ignored it unless he thought a new woman in his life might be coming over and then he would clean it up.

I once gave him a certificate I made up on the computer for his birthday, which was good for eight not-necessarily-consecutive hours of housework cleaning up his place. He laughed, but he made good use of it, and he did work while I was there working. We got a lot done.

Each time he moved into a new place, he would fix it up pretty nicely and had some pride in how it looked, but it didn't take long for clutter and apathy to take over, and without a mate to either clean it up or engage him in doing it with her it just looked like to enormous a task. Leif would insist he didn't even see the mess, that he had a male "target mentality," so that he only saw what he was looking for or working with. Maybe, but I don't think so. i think he just ignored it and lived with it, but I can't believe it was the way he wanted to live or would have if he'd had the right companion.

It makes me sad to think that he never really had a home as an adult. Places to live, yes, and brief periods where he liked them and was happier, but living with someone you aren't getting along with, or living alone and being lonely, is not having a home. How I wish he had had at least that. It might have made a difference.
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The photo of Leif was a self-portrait taken on April 26, 2003 at the 710 N. 9th Street house in Manhattan, Kansas.