So, here we are. Update 11.
I suppose I have not written about Leah in a while because I’m frustrated with all the specific details about her life that I cannot share. I’ll throw in small deets once in a while. But 85 percent of her life I can’t. And I’d love to. I would really like you to get to know her.
It’s been a crap year in the pets department; she’s lost quite a few. Petco gave (yes gave) her a couple of tortoises a small while ago. The damn things escaped from an enclosure she had in the back yard. So, she has been on tortoise patrol lately.
She remains hopeful; upon inspecting some recent gardening, she noticed there were nibbles taken out of the leaves of some new hostas. “They’ve been here!” So, they might turn up yet. Good thing it’s summer.
I’m not sure if they have names. I do not believe they do. I suggested “Sears & Roebuck.” Leah vetoed this idea. “Dolce & Gabbana”? “Stop.” [sigh]
And just today (June 29) Leah noticed a her male veiled chameleon named Francisco whom she adores was not doing well. Leah was very upset. I tried to be consoling, but made a hash of it. The less I say the better sometimes.
The chameleon died tonight on the way to my place, after a day of going on a last adventure; Francisco got to feel the sun, meet kids, and touch plants. Leah took it hard—another reminder that beyond buying sneakers and books for her, I can do nothing.
Her reading continues on a warpath. She is reading Aristotle, Heidegger, Doctor Zhivago, War and Peace, an immense history of WWII, and some more Aristotle. A lot of Aristotle. And as noted, she carries these books around like a kid that brings her toys everywhere. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Her enthusiasm is infectious. I used to pile up books and read five at a time; but these days I focus on one, then move on to the next. Not anymore. I, too, am reading Doctor Zhivago, a huge biography on Albert Speer, and I just started the complete works of Primo Levi.
Oh, did I mention I’m writing a book on Adam Smith?? Who do I think I am? Leah reads about five-times faster than I do, so I’m in a Hyundai Sonata trying to keep pace with a Formula 1 car. But will that stop me? I think you know me by now.
Leah has done nicely staying out of the hospital—knock on wood. She does have bad days and bed-ridden days, but I am quite proud of her increased strength, which continues to floor me.
She went through a bad withdrawal with Xanax about a month ago. Her prescription got messed up, and she was in serious pain. I could see it in her eyes, the darkness of agony. And yet, she tried to smile through it. Pain, smile, pain, smile. I was on the verge of tears and just told her everything was going to be alright, my arms tightly embracing her. I have never met a stronger or kinder human being.
I hate the pain she is occasionally in. I hate the lost days when she can’t get out of bed.
She has a birthday coming up. She will be 36.
We were going to sing happy birthday at the Peninsula in Chicago. But we had to cancel. I guess it’s going to be a Christmas thing. So, we’ll sing at a nice restaurant. A mutual friend suggested Pop’s. I countered with Taco Bell. Because of course I did.
Her reading continues on a warpath. She is reading Aristotle, Heidegger, Doctor Zhivago, War and Peace, an immense history of WWII, and some more Aristotle. A lot of Aristotle. And as noted, she carries these books around like a kid that brings her toys everywhere. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Her enthusiasm is infectious. I used to pile up books and read five at a time; but these days I focus on one, then move on to the next. Not anymore. I, too, am reading Doctor Zhivago, a huge biography on Albert Speer, and I just started the complete works of Primo Levi.
Oh, did I mention I’m writing a book on Adam Smith?? Who do I think I am? Leah reads about five-times faster than I do, so I’m in a Hyundai Sonata trying to keep pace with a Formula 1 car. But will that stop me? I think you know me by now.
Leah has done nicely staying out of the hospital—knock on wood. She does have bad days and bed-ridden days, but I am quite proud of her increased strength, which continues to floor me.
She went through a bad withdrawal with Xanax about a month ago. Her prescription got messed up, and she was in serious pain. I could see it in her eyes, the darkness of agony. And yet, she tried to smile through it. Pain, smile, pain, smile. I was on the verge of tears and just told her everything was going to be alright, my arms tightly embracing her. I have never met a stronger or kinder human being.
I hate the pain she is occasionally in. I hate the lost days when she can’t get out of bed.
She has a birthday coming up. She will be 36.
We were going to sing happy birthday at the Peninsula in Chicago. But we had to cancel. I guess it’s going to be a Christmas thing. So, we’ll sing at a nice restaurant. A mutual friend suggested Pop’s. I countered with Taco Bell. Because of course I did.
