Leanne was my “prickly” friend. Her life seemed to lurch from one source of pain to another: her husband had an accident and as a result was paralysed; she lost her job; she developed severe agoraphobia; she lost another job; she began to question the foundations of her life, including her faith; she developed a chronic thyroid condition; her marriage became stressed; her self-esteem plummeted; she moved out of home; she found a job in another city; the boss bullied her; she lost the job; she struggled with mental health issues; she found another job in another city; she seemed to be making some headway in dealing with her issues but then she died suddenly in her sleep.
Leanne had a brilliant mind. She wrote beautifully but could never bring herself to submit any of it in case she’d be rejected. She loved music, philosophy, politics, history, literature, theology and fantasy. She adored Chinese food.
We would spend many an afternoon discussing books and music and fashion and dogs and God. She would read the drafts of my work and not be afraid to call a spade a bloody shovel. “Wendy, this is definitely good B-grade stuff. You can do better.” “Wendy, I love this idea, the character’s great, but when he talks he sounds like he’s five years old. You’ve got to change that crap.”
She’d tease me about my willingness to follow “traditional religion” and I’d tease her about her devotion to Cliff Richard. She wasn’t always easy to get along with but she was insightful, challenging and incredibly generous. At times she’d leave me feeling very inadequate. Other times I’d come home deeply saddened by the way her life was going. Sometimes I’d come home singing, bouyed by her enthusiastic encouragement.
I am thankful that I had her in my life for so long and I’m devastated that we won’t grow old together. I think she would have made a fascinating and entertaining old lady. I also think she would have no idea just how much she’ll be missed. I just wish she could have found a bit more happiness before she went. Farewell, prickles. Thanks for keeping me on my toes.
this would be something worth while in sharing at her funeral. she experienced a lot in her life and I do believe she was blessed to have a constant friend by her side through it all.
Oh Wendy, my heart goes out to you. What a wonderful lady. How positive she was. An agoraphobic and she went out and got a job! Amazing. Itsounds like she coped with what life dealt her, rose above it, and kept on trying. It doesn’t sound like she gave up and I am in awe of her. S he reminds me of Anthony and I wish I had known her. You are very lucky and I grieve for your loss.
Thanks, Ali. Yes, there are some parallels with Anthony. It was uncanny that she went the same way. It’s stirred up all sorts of emotions for me, including the shock and grief of Anthony’s loss. She was 43, so near to his age, too. I’m having trouble coming to grips with her sudden death. Thank you for your kindness and understanding. Sometimes life sucks.
Thanks, Kim. Unfortunately I expect her funeral will be in Victoria, where her mother is, so that’s a bit far for me to go. She deserves a good send off. She was only 43 years old.