Thanks for a great year

Posted by Linnea on July 3rd, 2007 filed in liberty

From April 2006 to April of this year, I had the great privilege of living with Liberty.  He let me move into his apartment when I had nowhere else to live, and even put up with me living in his living room for 2 months.  He was exceptionally generous and kind, and I am still grateful to him for helping me so much.

One of my favorite Liberty memories took place early last summer, just after I had moved out of the living room and into the other bedroom.  A few weeks prior, a neighbor had come into our apartment while Liberty was gone and I was there was some friends, and I ultimately had to call the police because the guy was being very violent and ended up being on drugs.  Of course, my mom was concerned, but as we were talking on the phone one day, she said how fortunate it was that I was living with Liberty, who could protect me.  She’d never met Liberty before, so she started asking me questions about him, trying to figure out if he would be adequate protection.  “How tall is Liberty?” she asked me.   I didn’t know, so I asked him, and he told me probably 5′9″ or 5′10″.  I repeated this information to my mother, and she then asked, “Is he muscular?”  I didn’t think I would go so far as to call him muscular, but just to be safe, I asked Liberty if he considered himself muscular.  The whole time, I had been shouting from my room to his to ask him these questions.  After the last question, he ventured out of his room, poked his head around the corner into my doorway, looked at me and asked, “Is she interested?”  This is especially ridiculous because my mom is not only in her mid 50’s and divorced, but she’s a very no-nonsense type of person.  However, when I repeated to her what he had just said, she laughed for a long time.  The joke became sort of well known within our family, and over the time that he and I lived together, my family grew to appreciate him not just for his humor, but also for his intelligence and kindness.

Liberty and I had so many fun times in our apartment.  I remember the time he laughed at me when I told my mom I’d had a glass of wine to get over a migraine, when in reality it was two bottles.  I remember how he always used to offer me food (whether it was his mom’s beans and rice, which I LOVED, or his tofurkey conconctions which I told him tasted like old shoe).  I remember how he called exercising “making sport,” and I remember how in my brief “getting in shape” phase, Liberty would work out in the gym with me wearing only his swim trunks, which I always made fun of him for.  When he would go swimming in our complex pool, he would often wear a snorkel and goggles which made him sound like Darth Vader.  Sometimes he also wore flippers.  When we used to clean the house, he would say, “What remains?” when he was trying to think of what to do next.  I have so many memories of Liberty, so many fond memories.  He was so genuinely interested in getting to know the people I brought over, whether they were friends or relatives of mine.  He was so selfless with me over the year we lived together, and put up with a lot of my shit when I partied too much when I turned 21 (and even before then, actually).  I still live in the apartment we lived in together, and home has just not been the same since he has been gone.  Sometimes when I sit in the living room, I remember the way he would look when he would come in the door and take off his shoes.  I live in his old room now, and sometimes when I walk into it, I remember how he used to have it set up, and how he used to sit at his desk listening to Slayer or Iron Maiden, but leave his door open as a sort of invitation for anybody to come in and talk to him anyway.  And I remember how when I used to listen to Iron Maiden, he would always recite the beginning of “The Prisoner,” pretty much every time.  The more I think about him, the more little things I remember.  I could go on forever, but I will end it here.  I miss you, Liberty.  Thank you for everything.  I hope you know how much I always admired and respected you.  I love you, Fats.

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