I heard about Leslie's death at a large outdoor festival from a former roommate of mine.  I knew she had been seriously ill, but I could not fathom the idea of Leslie not making it.  Leslie always made it, through everything.  She was a survivor.  That she did not survive her last battle with illness was a shock to me, and to many who knew her.

I met Leslie through the Pagan Community Council of Ohio.  She was with it practically from the beginning, and worked tirelessly for years to help the fledgling group grow and prosper.  Although many of the original and early members of the group have since left, Leslie never lost faith or gave up.

Leslie could be stubborn that way.  Whether it was an issue or a person close to her heart, she would fight for that cause or that person, against any odds.  She had an intense sense of righteousness.

I once had problems with a roommate, who left but who needed to meet with me to deal with some final issues.  The man had threatened me, and I was not at all comfortable meeting with him alone.  I called up Leslie and explained the situation.  Within 10 minutes, Leslie was in my home, ready to do whatever was necessary to protect me.  She was incredibly loyal to those she cared about.

Leslie most definitely had a temper, and was never afraid to use it in the service of others.  Strong-willed doesn't begin to describe her intensity.

She was a very creative individual, and loved books, writing and ideas.  We both attended the same university, and disagreed in our opinions on one professor there, but we certainly agreed on our love for the written word.
 
 

When my husband and I were to be married, I asked Leslie to be my Maid of Honor.  I was very happy that she agreed.

Over the past few years, like many of her friends, I lost touch with her, as she focused on a few things in her life that were most important to her.  Every so often, I would run into her and her father in a grocery store, and chat for a few minutes.  But we had drifted apart, as happens so often with people in our lives.  I wish we hadn't; I am poorer for not having known her and her indomitable spirit better.

When I was in desperate financial circumstances several years ago, Leslie loaned me $20 to help out.  Although I slowly paid back people I had borrowed from, she was one person I had not repaid.  And then suddenly, she was gone.  Over the holidays in December, as had been asked in her obituary, I took that $20 and donated it to a cat shelter.  I'm not sure anybody loves cats more than I do, but Leslie had to come close.  I like to think that the money I owed her has helped some cat or cats.  I think she would like that, too.

Leslie was born with the physical problem that eventually took her life.  She battled most of her life for some form of physical health, but it was often a struggle for her.  That she survived to be 40 may be a testament to her innate strength -- a strength of will that will never be forgotten by those who knew her.

Leslie, I drink a toast to you, and hope that you are smiling in the Summerlands, curled up with a good book and ready to defend the children and other beings near you from any harm.
 
 
 

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