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Mar. 31st, 2003 01:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ciroccojGot an e-mail from one of Leslie's friends at her school. The third person to say that Leslie really liked working on Valentine's with me. I don't know why, but that really makes me want to cry. I'm glad it was a fun experience for her as well, and I know I'll always treasure the memory, but... damn, I wish that hadn't been the last thing she wrote.
It's odd feeling so angry and sad that her life is over, when I know that she was doing really well at the time of her death. I can't really explain it but... on the one hand, it's nice to know that. I mean, she had just gone to New York, which she'd been planning and looking forward to for months, and it had gone spectacularly well. Better than even she could've hoped. She even caught a glimpse of Jerry Orbach.
And overall, she often expressed happiness with her life as it was. She was off medication that had caused her grief in the past, and although she was having a few troubles with anxiety once in a while, when her doctor suggested going back on the meds her answer was, "Are you kidding? I'm having WAY too much fun to go back!"
She was really pleased with being able to write again - the medication had made her creativity tank for years, and she hadn't been sure she would ever get it back. She was glad that her stories were well received. She was looking forward to writing more.
She was happy with her many big and small obsessions, and with the fact that Bryan, as much as he teased her about them, was willing to indulge her and even shared them to a certain extent. She was very happy with Bryan - often mentioned how lucky she felt to be married to somebody so wonderful.
She occasionally complained about her workplace, but who doesn't? Occasionally had medical problems, and got irate about little things here and there. But overall it seemed like she was living a wonderful life, and was well aware of that fact.
So in a way it seems kind of... I don't know, childish to be angry about the fact that she's gone. Like, I can't think, Oh, poor Leslie, things were going so badly and if only she'd had time she could have turned them around. Or poor Leslie, never did go on that trip to New York. Or poor Leslie whatever. So I'm just angry for the hell of it, for me as much as anything else.
But... she was right in the middle of things. She was just 51, and she could've had so many more years to enjoy. And she would've given so much to the rest of us. She still had a lot more stories to write, and funny and insightful observations to make... and none of that is going to happen.
Damn it.
It's odd feeling so angry and sad that her life is over, when I know that she was doing really well at the time of her death. I can't really explain it but... on the one hand, it's nice to know that. I mean, she had just gone to New York, which she'd been planning and looking forward to for months, and it had gone spectacularly well. Better than even she could've hoped. She even caught a glimpse of Jerry Orbach.
And overall, she often expressed happiness with her life as it was. She was off medication that had caused her grief in the past, and although she was having a few troubles with anxiety once in a while, when her doctor suggested going back on the meds her answer was, "Are you kidding? I'm having WAY too much fun to go back!"
She was really pleased with being able to write again - the medication had made her creativity tank for years, and she hadn't been sure she would ever get it back. She was glad that her stories were well received. She was looking forward to writing more.
She was happy with her many big and small obsessions, and with the fact that Bryan, as much as he teased her about them, was willing to indulge her and even shared them to a certain extent. She was very happy with Bryan - often mentioned how lucky she felt to be married to somebody so wonderful.
She occasionally complained about her workplace, but who doesn't? Occasionally had medical problems, and got irate about little things here and there. But overall it seemed like she was living a wonderful life, and was well aware of that fact.
So in a way it seems kind of... I don't know, childish to be angry about the fact that she's gone. Like, I can't think, Oh, poor Leslie, things were going so badly and if only she'd had time she could have turned them around. Or poor Leslie, never did go on that trip to New York. Or poor Leslie whatever. So I'm just angry for the hell of it, for me as much as anything else.
But... she was right in the middle of things. She was just 51, and she could've had so many more years to enjoy. And she would've given so much to the rest of us. She still had a lot more stories to write, and funny and insightful observations to make... and none of that is going to happen.
Damn it.
