Followers of my work will notice that I have not written a new blog since September, 2020. At the time of my last post, any creative energy I had was committed to a major inquiry task. My wife and partner was experiencing a change in her personality and behavior, an oddity that I thought was due to strong anti-epileptic medications. Three and a half years later, Tamy Leventhal died of a neurodegenerative disease called Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. On Thursday May 18, 2023 I and more than hundred others celebrated Tamy’s life at the Oakdale Nature Center in Minnesota. What follows is the eulogy I gave to honor my wife and partner in love and adventure. Please enjoy the words and the images she made during her short but very well-lived life.
Jokulsarlon, Iceland - Image by Tamy Leventhal
I would like to begin by reading you all a love letter that I wrote Tamy as I learned about how very ill she was becoming. In writing this letter I wanted to reflect on the spark that united us rather than the health issues that dominated the present. Tamy’s illness began with a seizure and subsequent epilepsy diagnosis in 2018, a disease-related broken ankle in 2019, physical decline throughout the pandemic, a diagnosis of PSP in 2022, and a profound cognitive decline throughout the last and current year. As we fought to maintain a normal life rich with fun, respect, and dignity, I decided to write her the following note this past June:
I lived my youth as a lonely boy who moved about on the whim of young parents. Angry and sullen, I doubted that I would ever be happy. Then I met you...
We were college students studying rats in the desert, telling stories by the fire, and exhausted from long days in the field. I climbed a mountain to ask you out, and you said “With YOU?” and then said yes through that beautiful smile.
I lost your address, called our TA, and picked you up in ripped jeans. We ate scallops on the beach, and I tried to seduce you with stories of adventure. Your smile and kind heart changed me forever. No longer angry and sullen, I fell in love and have grown to be a happy man.
This letter is for you Tamy. I will always love you and cherish the time we have had together.
Your Soul Mate... Bruce
The Wild British Columbia Coast - Image by Tamy Leventhal
Tamy Rhoads Leventhal was a remarkable person, woman, advocate, nurse, environmentalist, photographer, spouse, and lover. Tamy never met a dog she didn’t want a pet or a person who she didn’t want to hug. My wife was a kind hearted, gregarious, and chatty friend to many. She took great pride in her work at the University Hospital… or whatever it has been called throughout these last 27 years.
When I met Tamy she wanted to move to Minnesota and become a veterinarian. In many ways, I was an unwanted inconvenience in her plan. As students of biology at the University California Irvine, I weaseled my way into her life and her future.
While Tamy never dreamt of following in her mother’s footsteps, Tamy became and loved being a cardiac nurse… just like her mother. After every 12 hour shift, my wife would share the drama of the day, the doctors she helped, and the hugs she doled out. While it was clear that her job was filled with its stresses and successes, she always reminded me that this was the work she was meant to do.
I was very lucky to find Tamy and will never love someone or feel so loved ever again. I know that those who knew Tamy also knew me through her stories of our adventures, travels, and photography. Similarly, anyone who knows me, also knew Tamy, as I was as effusive about her as she was me.
Tamy was definitely my number one fan and supporter. As an educator she was my plus one at critical events like homecoming, award ceremonies, and the prom.
Speaking of prom, I was the co-director of that shin-dig for some 15 to 20 years, and Tamy would happily be my prom date whenever she was off. I never went to my high school prom as a kid, but when she joined me at these events, I always felt that I had the best date in town. Now, I am sharing this prom story as a vehicle to let you all know that Tamy loved to dance. Not dance as in ballroom or swing, but dance like we were kids in the 80’s. Whenever a song like “Tempted Love” or “Hungry Like the Wolf” was played, she’d whisper to me… “These kids don’t know what they’re doing,”... She’d then drag me on the floor and we’d show them… when the music stopped, we’d exit without a word and leave the crowd of teens in shock. While we rarely danced in public, Tamy and I would dance at home, while camping, and even in the woods… this was one of the many little secrets we shared.
While neither Tamy nor I ever wanted children, Tamy had a lot of love to give. She loved her nieces, nephews, sisters, and my siblings the only way she knew how. Tamy love included hugs, smiles, special days, and hand-made stuffed animals, blankets, and dream catchers. In whatever spare time she had, Tamy loved to sew, knit, crochet, and craft with natural elements. She was a compulsive rock collector, stick collector, and feather collector. We’d be hiking in Africa, Iceland, Costa Rica, or the North Shore…, and her pockets would be bulging with stones. The real treasures in these collections were always the heart-shaped rocks that she proudly had to share, and was always followed with a big kiss and a smile.
As a childless couple, she put her love energy into me and our pets. Tamy loved being a cat, dog, and parrot mom. She displayed pictures of our four legged and feathered wards around the house and throughout facebook. Her love for our animals was so deep that I use to joke that I was ranked last in the house… a statement that she rarely denied. At first, it was the cats Blue and Ashley, followed by the parrot Rio. Later it was our dogs Sequoia and Luca, the parrot Rio, followed by me in the 4th position… because of this, I always felt fortunate that we decided not to invite other animals into our home.
Sea Otter in Kelp Bed - Image by Tamy Leventhal
While Tamy grew up Catholic, she was not a religious person. Tamy turned to nature to find comfort and meaning. She saw herself as part of the “circle of life;” where death and dying was just an inevitable conclusion to life and living. Tamy embraced the understanding that her body began as stardust, and that the physical person she was would eventually become the plants and animals of tomorrow. This belief that we are of nature and from nature gave her great comfort and it is for this reason that we are celebrating her life here and in this natural place today. If you find yourself wanting to think about and remember Tamy, take a walk in the woods, sit on a rock, and gaze at the stars… this is where Tamy is, it is where I look for her, and it is where she will always be.
The Three Little Bears - Image by Tamy Leventhal
I would like to close by reading a poem by Kwame Alexander that I heard yesterday morning during my commute to work…. It seemed to resonate with me and I how I feel in this moment in time
It is titled… Without You
Without you I am lost as in isolated, unfinished broken off, shipwrecked on the shore of solitude- Ankle deep in possibility.
I have read the dictionary twice and still there are no words to fill my blank spaces. To punctuate the way I feel when your smile dances across the stucco walls of my memory.
Perhaps, I will open a thesaurus now and find a little piece of hope or something similar.
Tamy Leventhal… you are the one of the great ones, you are the love of my life, and you will be missed by so many.
Hallow Rock, North Shore Minnesota - Image by Tamy Leventhal
All Images and Text Copyright Bruce Leventhal and Tamy Leventhal | BTLeventhal.com