
Steph and I shared a few things. Her middle name was Ann. We both had the last name of Weaver, but we weren't related. We both lived on Greenhill Drive, we both played the guitar, and we both loved daisies.
What we didn't share was intelligence. Steph and her twin sister were crazy smart, in fact they were dual valedictorians at our high school graduation. We kept in touch after graduation. She was the maid of honor in my wedding, I was a bridesmaid in hers. We corresponded by mail after her wedding up until we both started having children and then we lost touch. I saw her once at her mom's house somewhere between then and now.
While her passing does not affect me like it does her family, her friends, her church family and the community that she served so faithfully and selflessly, I felt compelled to attend her funeral because it was the only way that I could think of to honor and thank her.
Of all the many memories I have of Steph, there is one encounter in particular that turned the trajectory of my life toward Christ. Steph was home and saw my car in the driveway. She called and asked if she could come visit. We sat on the back steps of my family's home and she steered the conversation to issues of faith. In her own gentle, genuine, unassuming way, Steph shared with me what she believed. She even went to church with me for several weeks until she had to leave to go back to school. She watered the seeds of the gospel that had been planted in my heart as a young child. When I called her several years later to tell her that I had become a Christian, she was overjoyed and she wrote me many letters encouraging me in my new found faith. Then the children started to come and we lost touch until her husband made a facebook page. Even then, I was only able to catch up with her from afar.
Steph was a private person so I'm not surprised that many didn't know she was sick. She only had 5 weeks after her diagnosis, much of that she spent sedated until she crossed into eternity. Knowing that she is in Heaven mediates the pain that those close to her feel, but it will not fill the void that her passing has created. However, her story was inspiring and a bit convicting to me and once again, in her loving, unassuming way, she has touched my life in a way that could once again change my trajectory. Even in death, she is touching mine in her loving and unassuming way.
I can't thank her now, but I know I will be able to someday. Until then, I can only strive to live what life I have left in the same way she lived her life now past.
Goodbye, my friend. And thanks for watering!