To Steve

Sunday was a near perfect day, by my standards. We started the day with a perfect view of a perfect ruby-colored sunrise. We opened Craig's bedroom curtains and watched the sunrise as we delivered Craig's six o'clock meds. We sat quietly, tracking the sun as it climbed higher in the sky. After a spell, we climbed back in bed and drifted back to sleep for another few hours before waking for the day. Steve was due to leave that afternoon, so we wanted to make the most of the morning. We spent the morning watching the Olympics and chatting about the women's volleyball outfits (or the lack thereof...I'm glad I'm not out there...not only would I have to pass out sunglasses for the glare, but I'd basically be a big ball of duct tape in order to keep the event G rated). After a few moments watching the clock, Steve tentatively stood up to start his goodbyes. He gave C a hug. Muffled from his shoulder I could hear Craig say "you hang in there, and I will too." Craig ended by saying that it was good seeing him and that he hoped to see Steve again, soon. By the end of it, there wasn't a dry eye in Craig's apartment. We knew what the moment signified. I hope Craig's wish comes true and they will see each other again, but chances are, the hug they shared Sunday will likely be their last.

We continued watching the Olympics long after Steve left for the airport. Around three, we loaded the car for a field trip to Denver's version of the Omniplex -- another Mom favorite -- where we'd learn (sort of...) about black holes. We joked about the brave animated kayakers who sacrificed themselves for science by kayaking down a simulated black hole. The kayakers actually were listed in the credits...their poor families. After our journey down black holes, we traveled back just in time to watch the men's relay beat France in the 4X100 freestyle relay. Craig ended the night with a tag-team back and head massage. The next day, Craig called Steve to check in.

There's something to be said of a friendship that can span three decades, and endure some of the hardest situations. Craig and Steve met when they were both just knee high to a grasshopper. They remained friends throughout junior high and during what I consider awkward high school years. They even roomed together during college, which is usually the kiss of death for long-term friendships. Friends at a distance; or enemies up close, as I like to say. But they managed, and after college they remained phone buddies, seeing each other over the occasional holiday. When Steve learned of Craig's diagnosis, he was on a plane to Denver to lend C support. He joined us for Craig's first meeting with Dr. F. to hear firsthand Craig's prognosis. Steve's been to Denver four times since; he even attended Mom's funeral. When he's not here, he's patched in through phone or the internet. I recently read a story of a terminally sick mother struggling to get her two busy sons to take a weekend to visit her (they live only a few hours away). With Steve, his absence was never an occasion to rue. Craig's never doubted his commitment. Had cancer not gotten in the way, Craig and Steve would have continued being best friends well into the future.

That their friendship has not only lasted, but grown over these last months is a testament to the love they share (yes, I said love, though it may make Steve and Craig cringe). They've stood by each other through the thick of it. They've tested their friendship; they've worked through the lows and have embraced the highs. I think Steve said once that he wished it were him instead of Craig. Like a friend, Craig said, "No, Steve, don't say that. You don't want this."

Steve is not just a friend; he's family. He's a friend and a surrogate brother to us, and, in a way, an extension of Craig. Steve's role in our family will become more important in the days to come, especially when Craig feels far away. We'll be able to rely on Steve to help bring C back to us through his quirky memories of his life with him. I'm sure we'll be that role for Steve, as well, to remind him of his best friend. Their friendship will continue to be a gift, not only to Steve but also to us. So, here's to Steve. Thanks for being there and for doing what I'm sure comes naturally. Know that Craig loves ya. -- J