Dear Friends, 

I would to like share with you how life has been in the six months since Steve’s death. I know many of you are not on Facebook, so I thought I’d return here to let you know what we’ve been up to. It's so hard to believe that Steve has been gone that long -- that it’s been half of a year since I heard his sweet voice -- especially considering we never went a day without talking for twenty-some years. It truly is difficult for me to think about. 

However, I’ve done a lot in these last six months, some of which I barely remember, as I felt like I was sleep walking through much of it at first. But, much of it has been while I’ve been fully awake and aware of not only the immense pain, but also of the fact that I have to march on, catch up, keep up, and every other thing I need to do for myself and my family. I think most importantly is that I’ve tried to not just be alive but to actually live, which I know Steve would want more than anything. I don’t know why, but Steve was my biggest fan. I guess that’s how it should be in a marriage, huh? I know that he would not only want me to be thriving in matters of business and in my relationships with the kids, but also moving forward in my own personal life. I try every single day to honor what I think Steve would want and above all else to make him proud. Steve was the kind of man that you didn’t want to disappoint. He was not only good for me in actual life, but he’s still good for me while out there in the afterlife too. I hope that if he is out there somewhere, he knows that I’m trying my best. Many days I fail, of course, but other days I surprise even myself. I’m sure on those days I’d shock the you-know-what out of him, as he was very used to taking such good care of me. But that’s just it—I learned from the best of the best. 

Before Steve died, I begrudgingly told him (at the urging of my best friend) that I would be alright if he didn’t make it. My words were “you know I’ll be miserable without you...you know that...but I’ll do my best and with every decision that I have to make, I’ll ask myself ‘what would Steve do’?” I’ll never forget his response. He looked at me with such a mixture of compassion and conviction, pointed at me, and said “I’ve been telling you, you can do this”. So there it was...my love had faith in me and was counting on me. And here I am today trying to live up to that giant vote of confidence. What an incredible man he was to be reassuring me as he was about to embark on his final transition to a place of such great unknowns. And what’s even more incredible is that we were such a team. We were a force to be reckoned with right up until our last moments together. 

Death is so final, and yet some things in life are so unbelievably special and mysterious that not even death can touch them. It truly transcends all that we can possibly conceive. Some days I feel like Steve is right here with me and it feels so reassuring. Other days I get bogged down in the sadness of thinking that I’ll never get to see him again. That’s when the mystery of this life becomes so overwhelming.

But I do go on each and every day. I came to the realization a while back that life goes on no matter what. I can either spend it being miserable or I can try my best to see what a privilege it is to be alive. I have many things to be grateful for like my four wonderful children. It’s not always easy to have this attitude, but I know that at the very least I can always try. 

Being without Steve has been a real test in just about every aspect of my life. After all, I spent most of my adult life with him. It’s like using muscles I didn’t know I had. I often wake up sore from living this new life of mine and trying to find my new normal. 

Of course, I’m not the only one missing Steve. I know the kids miss him dearly and feel his absence often, but I have to say that they are doing really well. I’m so proud of them. They have done such an incredible job of not only helping me emotionally and with day-to-day tasks, but also in moving forward in their own lives. Lynn recently moved to Chicago (so exciting!) and is job hunting right now. Leigh is living in Louisville and working as a social worker. She provides therapy to children and families. Collier began his third year at Xavier and is living in a beautiful house with three roommates. I think he’s anticipating a fun semester. And our little Beck just started at a new school for the 6th grade. She’s wearing a uniform for the first time ever.  

So I try to count my blessings as often as I can. While at times I feel lost without Steve and am so sad that he wasn’t able to remain here with us, I have many things in my life to be thankful for. I have wonderful friends who provide an enormous amount of emotional support, family who loves us beyond measure, and children who are healthy and happy. Although some days seem unbearably tough, I still feel like I have much to contribute and have a whole lot of love left in my heart. I am regularly in contact with newly diagnosed pancreatic cancer patients, trying my best to help them out in any way that I can. I am also still volunteering, researching, and learning as much as I can about PC. Staying involved in it helps me feel connected to Steve and it pleases me knowing that I’m doing this in memory of him. 

I know that I will always love Steve with every ounce of my being. I also know that I will continue to move forward in my life with him in my heart. Steve would want nothing more than just that. 

I hope all of you are well. I think about each of you who sent us so much love and I feel humbled and blessed by your thoughtfulness. Please continue to keep us close to your heart. I will certainly be doing the same with you. 

Xo, 

Sena