Uncle Leonard

My Uncle Leonard died last month, the day before my birthday. Leonard was 87 and lived a good long life, his words, not mine. Now, he had his share of medical problems especially over the last three or four years. Two strokes, diabetes, leg amputations and a collapsed lung. But through all of that he was remarkably resilient and positive. He almost NEVER complained. As a matter of fact, where he was at the moment, was always the best place he could be because he made it that way. Leonard was an “in the moment” kind of guy. He almost always found pleasure in something at the moment.

Leonard never married but he had lots of friends and a small close-knit family here in Central New York. His friends were mostly from local theater groups and they knew him as “Lenny,” all his theater friends called him Lenny. Lenny volunteered for Salt City Performing Arts and The Talent Company since moving to Syracuse in 1985. He did costumes, lighting, props and any else they needed. He also did a little acting from time to time. It’s also possible that you may have even seen him walking about SU (before his medical complications of course) because he lived at McCarthy Manor on South Crouse.

Leonard lived life and I guess that sounds a little vague and trite. What I mean by that is he found things to do that that gave him pleasure and purpose. He lived an extraordinarily ordinary life . . . yet not. He traveled to Europe often and toured the U.S. working in summer stock theatre when he was younger. He worked at Gimbel’s department store in New York City for 20 plus years, retiring from there as their window dresser. Did he change the world through his accomplishments that you might recognize? Probably not. All he did was pay his bills, be a good friend and be a positive presence to those around him. He contributed his time to the arts and made them and the people who worked there a better place with his creativity. Leonard never had much money but he gave my daughters a little cash at Christmas and birthdays and every year, everyone in Leonard’s circle of family and friends would get a pen and pocket calendar with his name and address on it for Christmas. He found his passion and followed it . . . and lived it. Family, friends, travel, work, theatre. Life.

87 and no regrets. His words, not mine.