This is so beautiful, Zoe. Thank you for allowing us to “see” Stephen as he also saw you. That photo of you both is just precious, and beyond the huge smiles, I do notice his perfect collar. We are lucky indeed when such humans cross our life path, and I am sure you were that to him too. Losing such a presence in our lives is hard. His energy sure lives on! Sending hugs. ❤️
Thank you Zoe. Stephen was my aunt’s stepson, and although I didn’t get to see him often, he never felt like a “step”cousin, just a cousin, albeit a fascinatingly talented cousin who could make people feel seen. I have a vivid memory of him being in my childhood home, big family gathering, a holiday, and I was probably 6 or 7 years old (so early 1970s). It was my bedtime, so up to bed I had to go. But I could hear the grown ups below, and then Stephen on the piano. I crept back down to the living room, he welcomed me to the piano bench, and sang a lullaby to me - probably creating it in the moment. It is one of my favorite memories, and my most favorite memory of Stephen. I am sorry to miss his service this weekend, and the possibility of meeting you. Be well and thank you again for sharing your memories of Stephen.
Zoe / thank you for this lovely ode to Stephen. What memories you evoke by telling that story of Les Mis; I didn’t know you were family friends, but I love how well you knew him, and captured his essence. Warmly, Ms. Emily
Zoe, this was a beautiful tribute. I remember Stephen from my days at the J. Your beautiful writing helped bring him back more vividly in my mind. May his memory be a blessing 🩷
Thank you Zoe. I heard brief stories of Stephen and now I feel a bit more as if I know him. I imagine him smiling and nodding with gratitude for being seen by you ❤️
Thank you so much for sharing!
This is so beautiful, Zoe. Thank you for allowing us to “see” Stephen as he also saw you. That photo of you both is just precious, and beyond the huge smiles, I do notice his perfect collar. We are lucky indeed when such humans cross our life path, and I am sure you were that to him too. Losing such a presence in our lives is hard. His energy sure lives on! Sending hugs. ❤️
Thank you Zoe, this is deeply true. 💗
Thank you Zoe. Stephen was my aunt’s stepson, and although I didn’t get to see him often, he never felt like a “step”cousin, just a cousin, albeit a fascinatingly talented cousin who could make people feel seen. I have a vivid memory of him being in my childhood home, big family gathering, a holiday, and I was probably 6 or 7 years old (so early 1970s). It was my bedtime, so up to bed I had to go. But I could hear the grown ups below, and then Stephen on the piano. I crept back down to the living room, he welcomed me to the piano bench, and sang a lullaby to me - probably creating it in the moment. It is one of my favorite memories, and my most favorite memory of Stephen. I am sorry to miss his service this weekend, and the possibility of meeting you. Be well and thank you again for sharing your memories of Stephen.
Thank you for this. He was my director from 1985-1987
My senior year I had him for three classes. One as his assistant. He worked me hard for that grade.
Zoe / thank you for this lovely ode to Stephen. What memories you evoke by telling that story of Les Mis; I didn’t know you were family friends, but I love how well you knew him, and captured his essence. Warmly, Ms. Emily
Zoe, this was a beautiful tribute. I remember Stephen from my days at the J. Your beautiful writing helped bring him back more vividly in my mind. May his memory be a blessing 🩷
Wonderfully written Zoe!
Thank you Zoe. I heard brief stories of Stephen and now I feel a bit more as if I know him. I imagine him smiling and nodding with gratitude for being seen by you ❤️