Webster's Dictionary defines "dynamo" as "an energetic, hard-working,
forceful person." It also claims this specific definition is "informal."
In my humble opinion Webster's is wrong on both counts. It should merely
list Leigh as the ideal definition. And the only thing informal about her
was her formality. She was the breathing embodiment of a walking paradox;
a conundrum in heels. She was, as someone had once described me,
standoffish yet approachable. She was the obvious that remained wrapped
within mystery.
Leigh
and I are bastards.
Proud bastards. Adoptees. We continually search, and fight for, our
rightful identities in this world. So it is only appropriate that we first met in 1998 in San Francisco
while attending a Bastard Nation
conference. We cliqued from the
moment we met. Our combined acid wit and mutual lust of Amaretto made us feel
we were twins from different mothers. She later told me that she found
herself very comfortable around me from the very beginning. Something, she
confidently claimed, that did not come easily, or frequently, to her. She
all too often seemed to be looking over her shoulder, waiting for the
other mysterious unseen shoe to drop. But it wasn’t that way with me. When
I inquired why she felt she could let her guard down with me she said,
"Because you didn’t hit on me the first time I met you." She paused for a
moment then slapped me across the arm and added, "Why is that?"
"That's
simple," I replied, "Because you're out of my league."
She
immediately agreed. Looking back I think I should be insulted that she agreed so quickly…
So this
nearly 10 year friendship evolved out of my low self
imagery and lack of confidence. I knew it would come in handy one of these days.
Our last
day at the conference is the one that sealed our bond. As we sat by a man
made goldfish pond in the hotel courtyard Leigh had what she would later
refer to as “the momma of all meltdowns.” The emotion of the weekend had
finally filled her strong petite frame and had to burst out somewhere. The
tear ducts were the optimal point of escape. I held her as she cried the
cry of truth, or perhaps the mourning of its absence. I held her for as long as she
needed—I told her I wasn’t going anywhere—as her tears streaked my leather jacket.
She claimed she would pay for its dry cleaning. Come to think of it she never did…
I saw
her in one of those rare moments of absolute vulnerability. She said she saw no
choice but to keep me in her exclusive inner circle since I could hold
such information over her head. So, here is a friendship built on
not only my insecurity but emotional blackmail as well. It was kismet from the onset.
The
physical distance between us never stood in the way of the emotional
closeness. We communicated the best way we could: through our strong
voices. “Strong”, in this case, is a polite euphemism for “ear-splitting”
and “grating.” Whether it was late night phone calls or oddly timed emails
(both of which stemmed from our mutual bouts of restless insomnia), we
found ways to keep in touch.
Of all
of our conversations over the years the most frequent topic of her choice
was that of her kids. At the end of the day, when all was said and done, she was
always “the mom.” She was more than just a proud parent in love with her
bevy of children. She was awestruck by them. Absolutely awestruck. She
would gush over Derrick’s fierce independence which enabled him to march
confidently to not just one different drummer but a quartet of
percussionists. Reese’s blinding brilliance and
resilience; both his mind and heart being much stronger than her own. Myranda’s
reflective insight that is wiser and older than her physical years often
gave Leigh the feeling that it was Myranda, and not herself, who was the
parent. And Shae’s no-nonsense commentary and defiant self-assuredness
clearly demonstrated in
all aspects of her life. Yes, she was completely captivated by each of
you… and how each of your traits so clearly mirrored her own.
Leigh
was not perfect. I would never try to portray her as such. Not only would
it be an insult to her but, frankly, she would slap me down a rabbit hole
for doing it. It’s her imperfections that I think about today. And isn’t that
what love—true unconditional love—really is? Embracing those imperfections
as an integral part of the person. What makes a diamond so beautiful? It’s
not just the gem on its own. It’s all of those intricate facets that
reflect and retract light so that it dances so beautifully before our
eyes. You don’t point out just one or two to focus on. To do so would not
be a true representation of the gem or the beauty within. You combine it all while appreciating
and acknowledging each and every detail. To gloss over even one of those
unique traits, or facets, you wouldn’t have the beautiful diamond before your very eyes.
So, combine it. Combine it in your eyes. Combine it within your heart.
Combine it within the depth of your very soul. And
love it all for what—and who—it is.
You are a true gem, Leigh. A brilliant, beautiful gem.
A few
months ago she sent me a card out of the blue (those are usually the best
kind). The front of the card reads simply: "Quiet meditation helps. Quiet
meditation plus a cookie helps more." The inside continues with "I have access to
cookies." She then wrote, "Charles, I love you for all of your time,
your caring, your hilarity. And I promise I will eat the cookies for you."
She
then closes with "What on earth would you do without me?"
Honestly, Leigh, I have no idea. The thought terrifies me. The stillness
you’ve left behind deafens me. You were my rock; my port on a sometimes
stormy sea. We always had one another within reach in this tumultuous
ocean. But, for some reason, this time the current was just too strong. I
will always miss you. I will always love you. I will always think of you
whenever I see goldfish (real ones as well as those of the cracker
variety). But, more importantly, I will always cherish the time I had with you—we all
will—despite its brevity.
Leigh,
as I told you by that goldfish pond so long ago and several times since, "I
am right here, honey. I'm not going anywhere."
I love you,
Chaz
March
14, 2007
Eulogy Delivered Friday, March 16, 2007
Naperville, Illinois
