As always I own nothing, make no money from this and bow before the genius that is Chuck Lorre, Bill Prady and all of the writers, actors and crew that bring the TBBT to life. Thank you.
Apologies on the delay.
Revelations
Since you are reading this I must assume my lawyers were unable to get me a new trial. That said I need to point out some "truths" I learned in the years after my vendetta ended. I had stereotyped my family into roles I could understand. Mother the automaton, Father the intellectual, Eleanor the child forced to follow a parents dream, Michael the innocent to be protected, Mrs. Loletta the surrogate grandmother, and Angelo the fallen Angel. All pigeon holed to fit my narrow view of the world. The world according to Leonard. Leonard the family's sacrifice. Get over yourself
The following was revealed to me in the course of everyday events. The order may be off but the importance is to get a more realistic view of my family.
Father
Since Uncle Floyd's company had stabilized I had been receiving dividends on my shares monthly. He held the money for me since I did not have a personal bank or brokerage account. One day he called me into his office to meet his new partner. I will not mention his name or the company he was merging with, but it is now a very large import export business of household goods. Uncle Floyd had brought me in for two reasons. One, his new partner wished to purchase my voting shares. Two, the head of the new larger company's IT department wanted to discuss ownership of the software I had set Uncle Floyd up with. The shares were needed so that the partners each controlled fifty percent of the voting stock. Uncle Floyd offered me $40k for my shares and to sign a contract to sell the company all rights to the software. The money sounded good but before I could agree his new partner asked me to consider a counter proposal. They would give me $5k to swap my voting shares for the same amount of non-voting shares in their new company. He then offered me an additional $10k for the sole use and resale rights to the code. In addition I was to receive 1/3 of the net proceeds if they sold/leased the software to another company..
It was an easy decision. I knew Uncle Floyd's knowledge and contacts would make this new company highly profitable. I also knew that as long as the interface for the software was redesigned to make it easy for anyone to use, the software would be popular with small and medium sized businesses. I chose the partners offer and was presented with a check for $15k. I was informed I also needed to get a personal checking account since all payments would be direct deposit in the future. Off I went to the bank and to my surprise found that minor's needed an adult cosigner to hold a bank account. Determined I filled out the paperwork and headed home to get my Father's signature. Knowing he would not even read the document if asked while he was busy I headed into his office and interrupted his current project. Rather than just signing he surprised me by actually reading the document. He crumpled it up and before I could object opened his file cabinet and pulled out a folder marked Leonard and handed it to me. I read thru and found that I actually had a personal financial planner in the person of one H. Richard Sipfes, CPA and CFP. I had a portfolio of stocks and bonds left by my Grandfather worth roughly $90k I turned to my Father and got the next big surprise, he patted me on the shoulder and told me what a good thing I had done by helping Floyd and that since I was doing a man's work I should control my own finances. He started to say more but his eyes kept drifting back to the papers. My view of my family was wrong, My father was not just an intellectual wrapped up in his own narrow little world, he cared for his family but just was not good at showing it.
Mrs. Loletta
Mrs. Loletta had been my family's housekeeper since the day my parents had been married, June 26th 1976 (yes the same month the Omen premiered, just a coincidence I am sure).
I knew very little about her since she was a very private person. This is what I had deduced from bits and pieces I picket up over the years. She was born on April 3rd, 1924, the same day as Marlon Brando (who was her favorite actor). She loved the anything sung by Doris Day (also born on April 3rd, but in 1922). She was a huge fan of the Brooklyn Dodgers, specifically Gil Hodges (you guessed it he was born on April 4th 1924). The last fact I discovered by snooping. Mrs. Loletta took off the first Tuesday of every month and went on a day trip. She never mentioned anything about it and when I asked my Mother about it she said it was not her story to tell.
I followed her one day on my bike and found that she visited a florist to pick up 3 dozen lilies already bundled up for pickup. She then proceeded to the bus stop and rode it till she got to Griffith cemetery.
She walked directly to one section of the graveyard that was very well cared for. I watched as she cleaned the weeds from 12 graves and then placed three lilies each on the graves. I had never seen her cry before but I could hear her weeping from my hiding spot. I should have left, it would have been easier for me but I couldn't move. Eventually I walked up to her and handed her my brand new handkerchief, she looked at it then used it to dab her eyes. I promised I would never tell but I am breaking that now so that I can show you again how my family was much more than I had imagined.
Mrs. Loletta took my hand and introduced me to her family. They were all of her direct family, father, mother, uncles, aunts, her husband and her three children. All of the grave markers except 2 had the same date of death. The 2 uncles had been killed in France in the great war. All of the rest had died in a terrible house fire that occurred in the middle of the night. Mrs. Loletta was spared because she worked nights taking care of my grandfather who was bed ridden due to a stroke. Suddenly homeless and alone she took to living in a shed on her family's property. One night during a particular nasty storm my Mother had donned her raincoat and let my Grandmother know she was going to bring Mrs. Loletta home where she belonged. She had lived with the family from that day on.
Mother
While the story of the day she came to live with my Mother's family does put Mother in a good light you must remember that having Mrs. Loletta was a great convince to my Mother and her family so we cannot rule out a logical decision to make sure they did not lose her services. I was proven wrong thru a series of isolated events. First Mother announced that Mrs. Loletta was no longer to take us to see Angelo. She had business at the clinic there and we would go with her from then on. Later she announced that we were to keep our rooms properly cleaned and bed made. If she found Mrs. Loletta upstairs for any reason we were to be punished. I began to see why these events occurred, Mrs. Loletta had been taking more time off and was walking with a noticeable limp. My sister and I began taking cooking lessons and eventually took over a portion of the daily dinner preparation. When school started I could no longer go with Mrs. Loletta to visit her family. I went the graveyard the day before she was to visit with the intention of cleaning up the area for her visit. When I arrived I found my Mother on her hands and knees plucking weeds. I did not say anything but instead handed her my gloves and joined her silently in the endeavor. Eventually my sister and brother joined us. From that point on either Mother or Father drove her to her visits. Things were different during this time, Eleanor and Michael spent a lot of their free time studying within sight of Mrs. Loletta, she was seldom alone. So when I walked to the kitchen that fateful day I expected to find her alone in the kitchen since I was always the first one home from school. I could hear crying from the kitchen. My Mother and Mrs. Loletta were not arguing just having an intense conversation, with words like retirement and leaving interspersed with quiet crying. I was determined to call Mother out on her attempt to ged rid of Mrs. Loletta, then I heard the crying and realized it was not Mrs. Loletta but my Mother trying to convince her to stay here with her family. Us. She wanted her to stay with US. Let me tell you this was big, I never saw or heard my mother cry in the 10 years previous. I walked into the kitchen. My Mother looked at me and then left through the other door. I then had the story from Mrs. Loletta. Her doctor wanted her to retire because her diabetes was beginning to cause problems in her extremities and she would require her feet and legs to be monitored closely. The loss of sensation in her feet was aggravating what would normally be small everyday issues. Mother had insisted that Mrs. Loletta stay with us, but she had decided to move to Florida to an assisted living community where her recently re-widowed sister-in-law was living. They had been childhood friends and were looking forward to getting reacquainted. She left for Florida in late October. My mother refused to let her fly because of her legs and instead booked them a cabin in one of the trains heading for Tampa.
In yet another amazing moment my mother stated her need to travel the same route to attend a conference. Mother was gone for 2 weeks and when she returned interviewed and hired a new housekeeper. She returned to her normal demeanor and I have only seen her cry one more time. When calling Mrs. Loletta to check in (coincidentally on her 68th birthday) she was notified that had passed away in her sleep earlier that morning. My mother and sister stared at each other soaking in the event. Without saying anything they both went and packed an overnight bag.
Dad drove them to the airport and they flew to Florida. They returned 6 days later and we buried Mrs. Loletta in the spot she had reserved between her husband and her children. During the funeral my family wept for our loss. After that day I never saw my mother or sister cry again.
Eleanor Hosfstadter
Eleanor had always played the role of replacement. She desired to be a great neuroscientist like our mother. She followed Mother around when she was home, studying her every move and reading any book on the subject she could get hold of. Her only act of rebellion was our protection of Michael, until Mrs. Loletta died. At one of the rare dinners when both parents were there she announced her plan to instead study human physiology, in particular metabolic diseases. Mother had smiled, Father looked perplexed about the change.
Seeing the question on his face she answered that Eleanor was intending to work on the cure for diabetes and would need to enter a school with a more solid biology curriculum. Eleanor left for Crestwood Academy in September of that same year. While it was an all girl campus it was reputed to have a solid offering of courses for those interested in the sciences. She thrived and graduated from Crestwood, with honors, in May of 1994. I would like to say we were close but once she left our house I seldom heard from her. Years later she would admit to me that she always resented the fact that Mother spent more time with me. She believed I wanted all that attention. Perception is a fickle bitch at times.
Michael Hofstadter
Michael was another mis-reading. I believed he hated me for keeping Mother away from him. Years later at his graduation from Princeton he would admit that Mrs. Loletta had told him before she died of all that I endured to protect him from Mother and was ashamed to face me. He believed he had ruined my life but instead he was the crucible that made me who I am today. We are close (for Hofstadters' that is). I was always proud of the man he turned into.
Angelo Hofstadter
It would take me years to finally figure out what my relationship with Angelo had metamorphosed into. I had committed a sin in his name and been forgiven. I had tried to assume his mantle of intellectual giant, and found myself wanting. I did learn from Angelo how to love my family and to help those that need it. Even during his time at the clinic he would help out with the terminal children, entertaining them, and letting them know that they were not alone. When his fits were under control Angelo, my Aunt Anna-Marie, and my Uncle Floyd moved to a small vineyard in Tuscany. Uncle Floyd had sold out his half of the business for quite a tidy sum and was living the life of a gentlemen farmer. We talked frequently but I never saw them again in person.
Angelo is in my thoughts constantly. I had named him fallen Angel but now realized he was the sacrifice that made so many lives better. I intended to make myself worthy of that sacrifice.