One of the problems with interacting with someone who is a lot smarter than you are is you are constantly reminded of the fact. It never stops. There are no weekends off. Leah is such a person.
We were chatting one day, and I suggested we read together Jean-Paul Sartre’s Being and Nothingness. “Maybe in a couple years we could read it.” I am buried in Adam Smith studies at the moment; I am re-reading the Wealth of Nations, which is a thousand pages of eighteenth-century political economy. I am also reading books about Adam Smith, and will read his Lectures on Jurisprudence as well as re-read his Theory of Moral Sentiments. I have a lot on my plate.
Sartre’s magnum opus is 800 pages and at times a very (very) challenging read. It’s one of those books one should read a couple books on before tackling. Anyhoo, when I suggested this to Leah, she looked at me like I was an idiot and said, “Just read both.” “Um …,” I replied, “do you see what I am presently doing??” And she said it again, this time with greater emphasis: “Just read both!!” (We discussed this at some length, and the conversation never got past what you’ve already just read.)
Leah is frequently in pain, lonely, afraid. She has a head full of bad memories—the kind you cannot imagine. There is a small (very small) number of us who try our best to make her feel loved and safe. She is sometimes in agony, has trouble sleeping, and every day is a question mark.
Her sleep partner has for a couple years been her dog, Sophie (not real name). Sophie was a beautiful purebred with just a lovely temperament. Sadly, Sophie’s kidneys never developed properly and at the age of two, recently had to be put down. This was an unfair cruelty to Leah.
I said, “Your home needs cheer and joy, and I would get a puppy in that house as soon as possible.” Leah found a breeder in Ohio, and there is now a new puppy running around the house. He is a delight, about the cutest thing you have ever seen, and is all paws. He’s going to be a big boy. I have seen photos of his parents—who were show dogs—and, yes, he’s going to be big.
Despite the loss of Sophie, dare I say Leah’s been doing pretty well—at least to my eyes. I pointed this out to her and she cut me a look. There’s a lot going on beneath the surface. I’m of course aware of this.
She has shared journals from previous years and stays in the psych ward. They detail the torture she endured as a girl. As I have likely mentioned before, I bear no anger toward the individual who did this. It’s like being bitten by a rattle snake. Do you get angry at the snake? No. You might get angry at having been bitten, but the snake was just doing what poisonous snakes do.
I’m ashamed that I have in the past pondered the words of Saint Thomas Aquinas: “The blessed in the kingdom of heaven will see the punishments of the damned, in order that their bliss be more delightful for them.” I imagine him—and those who looked the other way—burning in hell.
If there is a heaven, it’s a place where people see what they did in life with perfect clarity. Their sins and the causing of pain in others are their own punishment. Plato said this. So did Aristotle. The Bible also says this (Jeremiah 2:19). As does the Quran.
But that puppy is so cute, I can barely stand it.
Puppy traffic is hard on carpet. So Leah bought a carpet shampooer. She went Bissell, but I use a Hoover for my carpet shampooing needs. (Like puppies, MS patients are also hard on carpet.) She says she read a crazy amount of reviews, and claims the Hoovers did not perform well. (An argument ensued; this is what we argue about.)
I then asked if she was using Zep carpet shampoo. No. What?? I cannot. So, I ordered her a jug of Zep. She said, “You’re strange. I love you, but you’re seriously strange.” I can’t sit idly by while someone is not using Zep!
Reading Smith’s Wealth of Nations and Sartre’s Being and Nothingness at the same time?? [sigh] Fine, I’ll be the dumb friend.
