|Steve, a couple days before our move.|
Those of you who've been with this blog from the beginning of our move may remember Steve, our buddy who helped us get our trailers fixed up and with the packing.
Quantum came home from town last night to tell us that Steve is dead.
I first encountered Steve when I was walking our puppy on the way to the store. This huge tattooed refrigerator of a man came out of one of the houses I passed to see Zen. We immediately hit it off and I came home to tell Quantum about this really cool dude I'd met.
From the moment I met him, it felt like he was a brother, a kindred soul. Over the brief year or so that we knew him, Steve became one of our dearest friends. He had a pit named Crab and although Crab pretty much hated every other dog in the world, he loved Zen, so we'd go over his place to let them play together, and the friendship blossomed.
Steve is (I can't bear to say "was") a giant gentle man. His house pretty much was a party, with friends from all over the neighborhood coming to cook on the grill and drink beer and talk about anything and everything. When either of us needed a break, or were depressed or frustrated and wanted someone to talk to, or just wanted to hang out and have fun, we'd go over to Steve's house. Zen loves him. Just the mention of the names "Steve" or "Crab" will set Zen bouncing with excitement. Steve loves to laugh, has a sharp wit and a ready smile. He adores his dog with every fiber of his being. Laid back. A good listener. Honest as all get out. Kind. Loving. And the sort of friend who would help you hide the body.
His wife Mary-Lee is also wonderful. We didn't get to see her as much, since she had a nursing job that kept her busy at all kinds of crazy hours. She makes the best macaroni salad on the planet. Another great listener and a dear sweet lady. They were childhood sweethearts who seperated and then came back together - I only learned that part last night.
Two weeks ago Steve and his dad were hanging out late at night having a few drinks on the porch. Steve decided to take his dad's motorcycle for a spin. He hit a pole and the motorcycle burst into flames. I'm told he probably died on impact.
Rest in Peace dearest brother. And feel free to visit if you wish. You remain vibrant and in our hearts forever.