I'm writing this here because I'm not with any of my friends right now. I'm not going to post it for a while because it feels wrong to while the terrible news is splintering across the atlantic.
Leslie took me to hospital when I became sick, hours after landing in SF, when I was crashing at her house for some conference or other. I had mild panic but we both knew what was wrong, so she talked frivolously about any old nonsense in the cab, and sat with me on the best day in the Bay all year thus far until I had my prescription. She went out to Walgreen to get the drugs, and came back with a little basket of silly but lovely things as well. Nora's now got the pink rabbit. She was supposed to be going to a party that night, but instead she stayed with me, and we watched Ghostworld from her Tivo (I'd never seen an actual, live Tivo before).
Leslie had time for everyone. She was funny, kind and generous in every area of her life. She was wise, loved her family and never let things get on top of her, despite the provocations life threw in her path. With regard to them, she had the heart of a lion, and shoulders stronger than anyone I know. She never complained. Never.
If there's one way of remembering our lovely, lovely friend it's to try to be half as good a person as she was.
Leslie Harpold has died and it should not have happened.
