“A record arm that you can pick up and put down in favorite parts of your life to play over, like dropping the needle in the middle of your favorite song back in 1980, when you knew exactly which part of the groove was where the guitar solo to ‘Train in Vain’ ended.”
“Someone brushes your hair every single day and never says, ‘My arms are tired.'”
“Get up around sunrise, because sunrise is always five minutes after you wake up in heaven, and seeing a different and more magnificent one each day, simultaneously thinking ‘Wow, earth was beautiful’ and also ‘This is pretty great too.’ Spend the whole day reunited with pets and being really good at all the stuff you never got around to learning but always wanted to try like snow boarding and making quilts.”
“When people look at you, they see you and they smile from the heart. At night you sleep on the softest pillow ever, and both sides of the pillowcase are cool.
“What is is always good enough.”
Leslie died last Thursday.
Other words of Leslie’s to read:
The Thread That Runs So True (some of what the web has taught me) if only for this perfect line: “Potential energy is the most interesting kind there is.”
Annual Letter (to a fiance who died)
These Eyes: “I just don’t think it’s fair is all. I feel okay most of the time, but I have these eyes that say differently. I could be grinning from ear to ear full of sunshine, lollipops, and cute baby kittens and my eyes are saying ‘I am all alone and dying slowly.’ … My doctor even said when he put a stethoscope to my chest ‘I can hear your blood and it’s singing My Kickass Life!’ He was so excited, until, that is, he put that little pen light up to my eye and I watched the joy drain from his face and he sighed, ‘Your eyes are singing Cradle to the Angel.’ First, I felt guilty for bringing him down, but then I thought ‘Hey my body has the same taste in music I do.'”
We Will Be Changed (of a funeral, and about belief, generally): “Two weeks ago if you asked me what I thought of Jeff I would tell you how I thought he was a bit of a womanizer, and one of the most arrogant people I met. That he had a razor wit and a forced charm so ostentatious it’s sincerity was dubious. My role today is the friend, the hand holder. I tear up a couple of times, but I am consciously floating outside my body trying to escape the weight of the church’s air.”