Yesterday, Bill and I took the kids out to lunch. We usually have a wait since there are 5 of us and we need a big table. While we were waiting, another large party came in and there was a teenage boy, maybe 17 years old. He was with a woman in her thirties who had 2 small children with her. The boy picked up the little girl, maybe a year old, and was throwing her in the air and playing with her. Then he got the little boy, who was maybe 3 years old, and said, "Oh, I had to pick up the heavy one, didn't I?" And he made this grunting sound and lifted the boy over his head and the boy giggled. Tears started to well up in my eyes. Seeing this young man playing with those 2 small kids made me realize that I'll never see Stephen play with my kids anymore. My kids will never have their amazingly awesome and fun uncle play with them again. In the car Bill mentioned the young man in the restaurant. He was thinking the same thing I was when he saw it happen too.
Every time I do dishes I remember the same memory of Stephen: When Stephen lived with me, I was washing dishes and he came in to offer to rinse for me. (Yes, it's true. I don't have a dishwasher.) Anyway, he was rinsing the silverware and I told him to point the steak knife point-down. Then I told him not to put the forks in upside down. He said, sarcastically, "Oh that makes sense. Put the sharp knives point-down, but leave the sharp forks point-up." I never realized that it didn't really make sense but he called me on it. Every single time I put silverware in the dish-drain, I hear him say, "Oh that makes sense..." And I smile.
Stephen may be gone, but we will always have the memories. Those will never leave us.
Stephen playing with the kids:
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