Today is the 2nd anniversary of Steven’s death and he’s been much in my thoughts lately.
He would have loved to give me advice about the items on our to do list from the home inspection.
He would have gloated about their 85 degree, no humidity days, as I spoke of wearing a stocking hat to bed.
He would have told me stories about what his kids were up to, and then I would have confirmed the stories with my niece and nephew because you never can be sure if you are getting the unadulterated story. (I say that with love. We’re big storytellers in my family.)
We’ve never been able to have a memorial service for him because the timing of his death came right before the pandemic unleashed its initial fury. With his family living so far away from the rest of us who knew and loved him, the logistics have been untenable as the pandemic continues on.
There’s a feeling of unfinished business there. I would have enjoyed hearing other people’s memories of him. Meeting his former co-workers, people he went to high school with, listening to their version of him.
Instead I’ll write this post and include pictures of him so that in my small way I’m passing his memory on and reminding my children they had an uncle they didn’t know well, but who loved them very much.
Rest well, Dear Brother. I’ll send out some very long texts with lots of emojis in your honor today.