Legacy

I met a woman last week who had been a colleague of Steve's. She hugged me tight and told me that she loved Steve. That everyone loved Steve.

Never underestimate the power of kind words.

***

We've lived without Steve for almost two and a half years. And yet there are little moments when I somehow forget.

Like today, when I was grocery shopping, and I spied Spicy Hot V8, which Steve loved to drink. For a tiny second, I thought, "I should buy some of that. I haven't in a while." And then, of course, I remembered that no one in the house drinks Spicy Hot V8 anymore.

So I took a photo ...

and headed straight for the floral department, where I bought myself some roses.

Today that seemed the logical thing to do.

***

One of Katie's sweet first-grade friends played at our house Saturday. I was downstairs, they were upstairs, but their conversation was clear.

Katie showed her friend something.

"That was my Dad's," she said.

Her friend, in reply, "You don't have a dad."

Katie, without drama, just the facts, "Yes I do! Everyone has a dad. Mine died. But I have a dad."

Katie and Steve, October 2008, eight months after diagnosis