Thinking of Leif

Next month it will be five years since Leif died, but he seems to be as much a part of our thoughts as ever. We still talk about him, still are reminded of him daily, still feel his loss, still smile over his humor.

We were at Bay Pines National Cemetery on March 3rd, with cousins Wolfgang and Cordula visiting from Germany. It still brings tears to see his niche and know that is all that is left of my handsome, brilliant son, all that is earthly remains, at any rate.

Oddly, a couple of days later, the beautiful Hawaiian lei which has hung over his portrait ever since the day of his memorial service, now dried and still lovely, fell off of it for the first time in all these years.

It's amazing the number of things that can remind me of Leif. I was driving to my friend Chris's house a couple of times in the past week or two and saw many feral black and white cats. That reminded me of how much Leif loved cats, and how he had tried to get close to and tame the feral kittens that lived under our townhouse in Hawaii.

This picture was one that Leif's ex wife Nikko sent to me, taken by her, one of those precious photos I hadn't seen before, and is one of a series she took of him with one of their cats. I've posted some of the others before. I still wonder who else has photos of Leif I have never seen. This one was taken while he was in the army at Fort Drum, New York on August 20, 1999. This was shortly after we had visited them there and shortly before he went to Bosnia.

So much in our lives has changed since he left us, but our love for him has not.

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.

Cars He Would Have Loved

Yesterday we were in Sarasota. The weather was gorgeous, and it seemed to be the day for unusual sports cars to be out. Leif would have loved the neon green McLaren, the yellow Lamborghini (his favorite car color), the green Porsche, and the red Astin Martin we saw. I can never see a beautiful sports car without thinking of him and how much he loved them.

This photo of a Ferrari is one he took at the Chicago Auto Show in February 1987 when he was twelve years old. He loved that car, and so many others he photographed at that show.

There are so many reminders of Leif and the things he loved. We also went to the new James Bond movie, Skyfall, yesterday. He wouldn't have missed it. I wish we could talk with him about it. I miss those lively conversations.

Coincidences

Saturday evening we went to the 50th wedding anniversary of a couple who are neighbors and friends. It was a large gathering, about 300 people, including a few others from our neighborhood, a happy occasion with good food and music.

During the entertainment, Peter Anthony sent me a text message asking what kind of motorcycle Leif had. Peter A. really liked it and wishes he had it. It was Leif's third motorcycle. He sold the first one, a yellow and magenta Yamaha crotch rocket, and the second one, a yellow Suzuki super-fast crotch rocket was stolen. By that time, he was thinking maybe a more comfortable ride would be nice and purchased this used Honda MC 1800cc. It was a beautiful bike and he kept it in pristine condition.

But why did Peter A. ask me that tonight . . . just about the same time that Peter W. said to me that he didn't want to make me sad, but the picture of finding Leif dead in his apartment had come into his mind. Of course, it did make me sad, but I was already thinking of Leif before he said anything. What I was thinking was, "Leif will never have a 50th anniversary party. He will never have ANY anniversary party, never have any children or grandchildren."

On the way home, we were talking about Leif and about what we might do for our 50th anniversary. Peter wants to go on a cruise. I always talked about renewing our vows at the Heidelberg Castle. But the truth is, I'm not sure I want to be with anyone but Peter W. The thing I want most for that anniversary can never be . . . my family intact and whole, and all there with us. We will never have that kind of reunion.

We talked about Leif's sadness and loneliness, the way he would withdraw, the children we wish he had, how we wished he and Nikko had had a successful marriage. They clearly loved each other, but love is not enough to make a marriage work. The "love conquers all" belief just isn't true.

So, it was a pleasant and happy evening, but at the same time, a sad and poignant one, and I still wonder why all three of us thought about Leif at the same time, but in different ways.

As I told Peter W. during the drive home, it has been nearly five years since he died, and I miss him just as much.

Getting Through the Holidays

We celebrated our fifth Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years without Leif. You'd think it would get easier, but it doesn't. It still hurts. I still cry. It still feels as though there is a big, unfilled hole where he should be.

I'm happy, with our son Peter and our granddaughters with us. I enjoy those moments, but when I don't keep my guard up, the sadness and the tears come back. Why can't he be here to share it all with us? Why couldn't he be here with his own children?

I haven't written anything for a long time, mostly because I've had no time. For two months I spent nearly every extra minute I had taking care of my mother after she fractured another vertebra, and when I did have a few minutes, I had so many other things to do. I couldn't bring myself to write on the blog, didn't want to face my feelings any more than I could help it.

Then, yesterday morning, Peter W. turned on the music. He has all his music on Leif's old iPod, and plays it on a iPod player. He played Queen's "Who Wants to Live Forever?" I completely broke down. I associate that song so deeply with Leif and his death, with his memorial service, with his sadness and demise, that I can't listen to it without the floodgates opening. It is an incredibly beautiful and sad song, one of the most beautiful I've heard, so poignant and full of emotion.

                                                      "Who Wants To Live Forever"
There's no time for us,
There's no place for us,
What is this thing that builds our dreams, yet slips away from us.
Who wants to live forever,
Who wants to live forever.....?

There's no chance for us,
It's all decided for us,
This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us.
Who wants to live forever,
Who dares to love forever,
When love must die. 

But touch my tears with your lips,
Touch my world with your fingertips,
And we can have forever,
And we can love forever,
Forever is our today,
Who wants to live forever,
Who wants to live forever,
Forever is our today,
Who waits forever anyway?

Who Wants to Live Forever (0fficial Queen Video)

Leif loved this song not only for its music but because it was from the movie "Highlander," which was one of his all time favorites. Here's a link to a history of the song, from Wikipedia:

Who Wants to Live Forever (about the song)

I want him back. I will always want him back.

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This photo was taken December 25, 2006. Little did we know we would only have him one more Christmas. He seemed pretty happy that 2006 Christmas. How terribly things went downhill over the following year.

The MIssing Stone

On November 9, 2008, I posted a picture of this ring intact, with Leif's birthstone on the left, and November 29, 2008, I wrote about how I had lost the garnet stone that was Leif's birthstone on the left side of the ring. I found it and replaced it in the ring but oddly, it fell out again. I had it repaired again but had to have the stone replaced that time, since I couldn't find it.

Now, it has disappeared again. Last Monday, December 10, I noticed it was missing. I couldn't find the stone.

It seems so strange to me, that only Leif's stone falls out. It's as if it's trying to prove that he is gone and won't stay here. I am not a superstitious person, but it is a very odd coincidence. Even the jewelry company that made the ring from Peter Anthony's design, and has fixed the ring twice, can't seem to make it stay in.

It's sad. I can't wear the ring like this, and I don't know whether it makes sense to replace the stone yet again. I wonder if it would stay. Somehow I doubt it.

I fell doubly sad about it because I haven't been able to take time to write anything on Leif's blog for a month, and not much before that. I've been completely involved with my mother's affairs, since she suffered another fractured vertebra and has been in the hospital and rehab. I've spent a lot of time with her and taking care of her affairs, and been most grateful to my two sisters for coming, each of them for ten days, to help and be with her, too.

I've thought of Leif every day, many times a day. I've missed him at Thanksgiving, our fifth Thanksgiving without him. I still want to see him driving up the driveway, fell his warm bear hug, hear his laugh.

The holidays will always be bittersweet, sweet with the family we have and the memories we've kept, bitter without Leif there to share them with us. It's so hard to realize he will not be here for the fifth Christmas. We will miss him so.

“Youth offers the promise of happiness, but life offers the realities of grief.”  ― Nicholas Sparks

How true that is. We have to be glad for the years of happiness, though even those memories are now bittersweet.

Proud of Leif on Veteran's Day

Thinking of Leif on this Veteran's Day, wishing he had been able to have the army career he hoped for instead of being medically retired as a disabled vet, proud of him for his service and his excellence as a machine gunner, proud of him for his devotion to the Constitution.

Halloween, a favorite of Leif's

I suppose Leif and Peter Anthony were like most brothers. Sometimes they were good companions, and sometimes they competed. Sometimes Peter teased Leif and Leif got mad and went on the attack. I used to tell Peter that he was lucky Leif was six years younger than he was, because he was to big for his age. I think that in the years after Peter left home, when Leif was twelve, they grew apart and forgot all the good times they had together when they were younger.  This photo is an example. It was Halloween and Peter, who was nearly nine years old and in third grade, was a classy vampire with a ruffled shirt. He was already in costume way early, as we were having a party at our house for him and his friends. His dad dressed up as a sort of swami fortune teller. I looked ridiculous in a true 1970s tie-dyed dress, leopard print hat, and fish net stockings, or at least that's what I think I wore.

Look at the expression of pure delight on Leif's face, the cute body language as the vampire leans over to bite and Leif expects it will tickle. Yes, Peter did bite, and yes, it did tickle. There was a lot of laughter.

Leif was only two-and-a-half years old then and not really old enough to understand much about Halloween except that he got to go beg for candy at a few doorways in the stairwell, but he certainly understood the idea of having fun with his brother.

When Leif was grown, Halloween was one of his favorite times. He loved to have parties and was devilish and cute. I wish he was here this Halloween with us.

Leif - August 1977 in Nurnberg

I so wish I had more photos of Leif as an adult, but I've posted nearly all of the good ones, and many that are left are so similar (taken at the same time) to something I posted before. I find myself going back again to the old family albums to find pictures that are "new." Here, too, the best ones have already been scanned and posted in the four-and-a-half years since his death, since I began this blog, but I keep finding little parts of photos to scan. This is a good example. It's not really a very good photo in terms of focus or lighting, but it's a cute one of him.

It was taken in our room at the Bavarian American Hotel in Nurnberg, Germany. We stayed there for a month while waiting for quarters to move into. Peter W. was working, and I was "stuck" there with the boys. In some ways, it was ideal. The location, across from the train station and near to museums, and within walking distance of the historic downtown, was great. There were wonderful restaurants and shops all over the place. We were good walkers, so we ventured quite far from the hotel, to a terrific park, the castle, and more. We often ate lunch at a German restaurant, not in the "American" restaurant in the hotel, because we thought it was awful.

The hotel was built for high ranking Nazis and opened in 1936, bombed by the Allies in 1944, and confiscated by the US Forces in June 1945. After that, it was maintained as a hotel for servicemembers until it was returned to the Germans and was rented as flats. I believe that it is now unoccupied. We saw it when we were in Nurnberg last June and were surprised that it still looked the same and still had what appeared to be the same sign on it.

No matter how much walking we did, Leif was still only two-and-a-half, and even though he was willing to fall asleep in his umbrella stroller, it was usually important to spend enough time in the room to be sure he got a decent nap. We didn't have much to do in our room, but the kids found ways to amuse themselves. Leif had this cute little plaid backpack he liked to stuff his few toys and stuffed animals into and parade around with it on his back.

It's hard to believe he was such a little blondie at that time. Both my boys were blond when they were small, as their dad was, but all three of them had hair that darkened to a deep brunette as they grew up.

One good thing about looking at the photos of Leif as a child is the happy memories they bring. Not universally happy, but mostly so. I just have to smile at most of the photos. They were good times. Not always easy ones, but good.

In this case, although it wasn't particularly pleasant living at the Bavarian American for a month, a place that those who stayed there were wont to call the "Barbarian American," it did give us a chance to get to know the city. I wish we could have taken Leif back with us in June. He wouldn't have remembered anything, even with his phenomenal memory. He was just too young when we left there. But we would have had a good time reminiscing and telling him about his life there when he was so small.

I don't know whether we took a photo of the building in 1977. If we did, it was probably a slide that we didn't print for our album, since I didn't find one in there.

Leif and the Plaque for Timothy

Back in the days when I had time to make homemade gifts and thought they would be appreciated, I used to paint, sew, or needlework gifts for the family. I wasn't a good enough artist to come up with my own paintings for most purposes. When some of my nieces and nephews were born, I painted plaques for their rooms. This was one of them. I painted it in June 1978 for my nephew, Timothy, when he was a baby and had Leif hold it so I could take a picture. He looks so beautiful and sweet.

At the time we were living in Fuerth, Germany (Nurnberg), just before we moved to the village of Sachsen bei Ansbach. Leif was three-and-a-half years old. He was bright and curious, persistent and unstoppable. He had been attending a Montessori preschool which was excellent for him, but from which I have no photos.

Like so many of our photos from that time period, this one had fading and chemical staining. I've tried to rescue it.

Our boys did not have "professionally decorated" rooms, just as they didn't have professionally decorated birthday cakes. What they had on their walls was likely to be either things I had made out of needlepoint, posters, or things they had made or colored themselves. They had inexpensive, plain bedspreads, and quartermaster plain furniture, except for a toy box, which was mostly filled with things like Matchbox cars.