This is Leigh.
I know because on a rare free night we went to see her one-woman show
It is a wild stroll down her memory lane, some 30-years ago, of days that crushed her heart and left her hope in rubble.
And between laughing and crying and gnashing my teeth because HOW COME I DIDN'T WRITE THAT LINE, a light dawned in a dim brain and a memory bubbled up.
I remember a walk she took with me then.
My heart was also crushed and and my hope also in the rubble. I couldn't trust myself to be alone and safe at the same time. Leigh was someone who seemed so together and stable and strong enough to withstand the disaster I suddenly was so I asked her if I could for just a few hours visit with her.
We visited. But at some point she needed to keep an appointment. I remember us walking down Second Avenue as the light faded. I was bracing myself to get through the next couple of hours.
I don't remember the words we said. I just remember this strength and stride of Leigh's. I just remember wishing I could be her, be stronger than what ailed me, and so much did then.
It was now 30 years later. I was suddenly hearing how those days for her were just as crushing as they were for me. Only this time, in a dark theater, it was me keeping her company...
And still, I marveled at her, marveled, and even though those days were long behind both of us, I still wanted to stride as fiercely as she did.
Why Water Falls
Encore: Just in Time for the the Holidays: Thanking the Problems for Being the Gifts
Sunday Memories of When This Was Normal