Steve's shoes

For the past few years whenever we have seen Steve, he has been wearing these shoes. They were perfect for him. They are sturdy, comfortable, cool, and dependable. On several occasions I told Paul we ought to buy some of the same kind for him. I think we even joked about swiping them. But that doesn't mean I wanted to wake up this morning and see them sitting on the floor on my husbands side of the bed. We got home from Oregon yesterday and I think Paul and I both wanted to come home and pretend for a while that none of the past week really happened. We hoped to get back to our routine and put on happy faces and dry our tears, but as I unpacked Steve's obituary and read our many sympathy cards and Paul wore Steve's shoes around, the reality of what has just happened struck me anew. The tragedy has followed us home and we can't pretend that the loss of our Dad is not as heartbreaking at home as it was at his graveside.

I've never had to grieve before. I didn't know how it would feel. The sorrow is so permeating.
I can only barely imagine the pain I would feel if I lost my Paul after 7 years with him, but I can't begin to wrap my brain around losing him after 42 years together. My heart breaks for my mother-in-law. No one prepares to be a widow at 59. Throughout the whole week Patty was a strength to all of us when I felt we should be the strength to her. I only saw her weep once and it was as the two of us talked and she expressed how lonely she will be. I know she is devastated and yet she was gracious and loving and very present for all of us and her grand kids. She emanated peace. Her words and demeanor testify that she is absolutely sure she will see him again after this life.
The memorial service was beautiful. The chapel and gym were packed nearly to the back wall. There were thousands of flowers. Arinn and I said the prayers, Kim led the music and Ben, Zach, Jeanette, Paul and Kristen and Steve's bishop spoke. Ben gave a moving life sketch. Zach talked of Steve's love for his wife and read excerpts from the love journal Pat and Steve kept. Jeanette, Paul and Kristen shared memories and stories about Steve and I don't think there was a dry eye in the room. Steve's bishop could barely speak as he told of the many many acts of service Steve performed for people. I heard several people say it was the most inspiring funeral they had been to. Steve was real. There was no pretense. No one had to exaggerate to inspire us all to live a better life. It was said that Steve had become so pure that the Lord needed him to come home to do missionary work on the other side. It was true, he had become pure. His priorities were right. He loved God and served him. He put his family first. He died with his Book of Mormon open on his nightstand and his genealogy done all the way back to Julius Caesar. He lived an exemplary and righteous life.

No one in our family had to cook for a solid week and I have come home to another full week of meals provided by my wonderful friends here. The outpouring of love and sympathy we have received has been astounding. I didn't know how much I would appreciate it. I have sometimes in the past shortchanged people when sympathy was due underestimating the amount of sorrow they must feel. I have been solidly taught how to empathize and comfort others by the love we have been shown. I am so thankful for all of you who have called, sent flowers, emails, cards and prayers. Thank you. We are so grateful.

And even though I am comforted; I know he has passed on to a grand reunion on the other side of the veil, and I am buoyed up by so many who love us; I want him back. I don't want his shoes. I just want him back. I will miss him so much.