forstevenwithlove

For Steven, with love. Forever your wife.

Steven, I never imagined that losing you would mean having to defend the life we built together. While I’m trying to learn how to live without my husband, I’m hearing people say you didn’t visit family because of me, that you would come around and ask people not to tell me. And honestly, I struggle to understand that because it doesn’t match the life we lived.

We were attached at the hip. I heard your conversations, shared your everyday life, and encouraged you to spend time with people. You were free to go wherever you wanted. You didn’t need my permission to visit your family, and you certainly didn’t need to sneak around to do it.

If you ever did ask someone not to tell me about a visit, the only circumstance I could imagine would be if you had been drinking and didn’t want me to know. I can’t speak for every moment I wasn’t there, but I cannot picture the sober man I knew needing to hide a simple visit from his wife.

Sometimes I wonder if blaming me is easier than accepting that you had your own reasons for how often you visited or how close you chose to be. You were your own person, Steven. You had your own thoughts, feelings, and choices. I could encourage you, but I could never control you or create relationships on your behalf.

I wish people could grieve you without rewriting our history. I wish they could accept that they may never know every reason behind your choices instead of making me responsible for relationships that were yours to navigate, too.

And Steven, I’m grateful we have pictures of you from the years when you were sober, happy, and becoming the man you were meant to be. Some people may remember you mostly as the boy you were growing up or through the seasons when you were struggling, but I got to witness so much more.

I got to see you grow, find your footing, become a husband and father, and live with purpose. I got to see the man you worked so hard to become, and I will always be proud of you for that. I’m grateful our children will have pictures of their dad not only from the hardest chapters of his life, but from the years when he was growing, loving, and building a life with us.

You were more than the person you used to be, and I’m thankful I got to love the man you became.

I am grieving the man I knew day after day, the husband I shared nearly fifteen years with, the father of our five beautiful children, and the person whose life became intertwined with mine. Our bond was built through years of loving each other, raising our babies, sharing a home, and being there for one another. Nobody else lived our life from the inside.

They may have their own memories of you, but I have mine, too. I knew your struggles, but I also knew your goodness. I knew your humor, your talents, your tenderness, and the love you had for our family. Your struggles were part of your story, but they were never the entirety of who you were.

I wish more people had seen you through my eyes. I wish they had been there for the happy days, the growth, the sobriety, and the life we were building. I wish they could remember that you were a whole person, capable of making your own decisions, with a heart and mind of your own.

They saw pieces. I lived the story. And God knows the truth.

God witnessed our life together. He knows my heart, my intentions, and the love I gave you. When other people’s opinions become too heavy, I lean on Him. His mighty hand is over me, and He is carrying me through a loss I never imagined I would have to endure.

I cannot make everyone understand our marriage, and I cannot change the stories people choose to believe. But I know the life I lived with you. I know the family we created. I know the love we shared. And I will not let other people’s assumptions erase the memories that belong to us.

I was your wife, Steven. I loved you, encouraged you, built a family with you, and shared my life with you. I was never responsible for every relationship you had, and I was never the person standing between you and everyone else.

I wish you were here to tell your own story. Until then, I will remember the whole man I knew, honor the life we built, and teach our children about the father they will always have.

You know my heart. God knows our story. And I will carry the truth of our life together for the rest of mine.

Forever your wife. Forever grateful for our life. Forever loving you.

Until I seeds you again, my love.