Every now and again, I'll think of a question I have about Shannon for Steve. They just pop into my head, and I'm hoping he'll have an answer. The amount at which we share a life, she and I, is enormous. Married to the same man, raising the same children (I've added Parker to the mix, of course). I have so many questions for her, many of which Steve can't answer. When times get tough with Jordan, I've asked Steve, "What would Shannon do here?" I've wondered what her dreams were and whether she yelled a lot or was a calm mother. Was she into health food? Was she shy and reserved or outgoing? Did she struggle with her faith too? What did her last days look like? Was she scared?
I met her only one time, at church, when Lindsey was about two. I was curious what she was like, even then, because she was my favorite professor's wife. I thought she was lovely, she seemed a bit quiet, and that's about it. It was a two-second meeting, and I never saw her again.
I asked Steve recently what their last date was. And whether they knew it would be their last. He told me they were driving home from Mass General and stopped at a Bertuccis along the way. It was just the two of them. They would be returning to the hospital a few days later where she'd be admitted for major surgery. The surgery would be unsuccessful and she'd pass away shortly afterwards. He says they talked about how all of these waiters and diners all bustled about their business, cleaning up dishes, picking at their bread and crunching on ice cubes, pouring drinks and taking orders, having no idea what was going on at the table in which they sat. He says he remembers they were a bit in awe of that fact. Here they were, eating a meal that could potentially be their last together, alone as husband and wife (not knowing at the time that it was), and no one around had a clue.
I've thought about that a lot. Everyone's got something. Big, small, something.
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