This is from a Shape photoshoot for an article on corrective exercises. Steve did NOT want to do this. Him: Does this angle make me look short? Me: Yep. Him: You know I hate these machines and would never stick a client on one, right? Me: Yep. Him: Do I still have to be in this picture?? Me: Yep. So he crouched down to make himself look like even more of a midget. This is me trying not to bust out laughing. Jerk. Also, unrelated, my bangs were really unfortunate.
Practical jokes have never ranked very high on the funny scale for me. Having done my fair share of toilet-papering houses, saran wrapping toilets and forking lawns (you stick plastic forks ouchie side up all over in someone’s grass because… bored?), I probably ought to have more of a sense of humor for them. Yet when I got the text message, a year ago in the dark predawn, from my friend Steve’s phone that he had died a few hours earlier I rolled my eyes and thought it was a stupid joke, a crappy way to try to get out of a meeting we had scheduled later that day. Steve was known for his jokes.
Ha ha ha. Surely you can come up with something more original than death? And then: Please tell me you’re kidding? He wasn’t. Or rather, his sister-in-law, the poor soul tasked with going through his cell phone texts and letting his friends know the awful news, wasn’t. He was really, un-jokingly dead. Because I was one of the last people he’d texted the night before I had the strange honor of being one of the first to know. It was early (5? 6?) and so I waited until 8 before calling other friends to tell them. So I had 3 dark hours to sit silently with the knowledge. To try to make what sense of it what I could. Except there was no sense to be made then.
There were so many questions. So few answers.
But now, in the year since Steve died, I thought that there would be more answers. We have one major answer now that we didn’t know then: Why he died. It was a massive heart attack. Not surprising given his family history. Terribly, horribly and crushingly surprising to everyone who knew him – he was so young! – and knew how healthfully he tried to live. The grander more philosophical answers to why a new husband and father was taken so suddenly no one on earth can answer, I suppose.
Me: Are you trying to correct my form or make me levitate? Him: I’m just trying not to touch your legs. Me: I won’t kick you. Him: I just don’t want radiation poisoning. That shade of glow-in-the-dark cannot be natural.
It’s the question that everyone who knew him has to answer for themselves in their own way. And in the past year I’ve had occasion to speak to many of them, hear their stories, watch what they did with the gift of his memories. I wrote a few of my memories in a eulogy on this blog on the day he died and thanks to the wonders of the Internet plus his big personality and penchant for moving all over the country, I was deluged with e-mails from old acquaintances, friends, coworkers, and family wanting to share their stories.
One girl wrote about how Steve helped her escape her abusive husband, crediting him with saving her life. A high-schooler wrote a beautiful essay about how he helped her overcome an eating disorder. Yet another told me about how he taught her to box, giving her confidence to stick up for herself. A paraplegic woman he helped learn to walk again when doctors said she never would. A bodybuilder who almost lost the sport she loved because of a back injury only to be restored to full function by his help. A young mother who met him and his wife through a fitness group they ran at their church and how he taught her not only how to take care of herself but why she was worth taking care of in the first place. This was the Steve I knew. This was my friend.
From another Shape photoshoot. With a volleyball player, one of the many people he helped.
With his beautiful wife at her fitness show. They met at the gym. Awww!
And then he died. It turns out that his death, the thing none of us could understand, was actually pretty simple. It was all his living that was complicated.
This was the “cover photo” for the article and the expression on his face just kills me every time. I told him to look worried (we were trying to show a “what not to do”) and this was what I got. Plus a big red FAIL! on my nethers. Definitely not my proudest moment.
He didn’t say anything particularly funny during this shot but I had to include it because this is actually a really good move. It’s like doing a Superman but bending your arms and legs allows you to curl up higher, isolating your back muscles even more. See my neck vein? That’s how hard this hurts! See, I learned something!! (And also, I have to mention that Gym Buddy Allison was the photog for this shoot and while she’s not dead – thank heavens! – she’s like 1000 miles away. So now I have a double sad.)
So I’d like to take this time to remember Steve and all the funny, interesting, crazy things he taught me.
Things I Learned From Steve (Besides “The Skydiver” Move)
1. I have quad dominance. Which is really just a nice way of saying I have no butt. It’s a common problem in women and runners and his particular brand of physical rehab for this issue was the reason we first connected as I was writing an article about it.
2. The meaning of a very naughty phrase, after I used it in some business correspondence. Technically he just laughed at me until I Googled it on my phone and then laughed even harder as I frantically thumb-typed a frantic mass apology. (I swear I had no idea it was bad!)
3. To do kettlebell cleans while standing like a flamingo on the flat side of a bosu WITH MY EYES CLOSED. (You should really see DeeAnn do these – she trained with him for years and her next step is the Cirque du Soleil, I swear.)
4. To always find a way to work neon into your wardrobe, even if your required uniform is “black pajamas.”
5. That you can too sit in the sauna for an hour even though the sign says 15 minutes max. Apparently it’s very good for your immune system too!
6. That “connectivity” originated with people and that that’s still the most important kind. (Can’t even count how many times he slammed my laptop shut and said, “Less thinking, more doing!” I also can’t count how many amazing, smart, talented people he introduced to me to.)
7. That loving people is always a risk worth taking, no matter who they are.
8. Only zebras are black and white. Human beings are good and bad and every wonderful thing in between. I have flaws. I make mistakes. I lie. I hurt. I cry. And then I try to pretend like I just got caught in a mini rainstorm that weirdly only hit me. People are way more interesting in full color! Why do I keep trying to force people (including myself) into little boxes?
9. That life is short. Live big. Love bigger. Laugh hard. Hug harder. Don’t forget yesterday but don’t keep living in it either. Keep trying, no matter what, to be better tomorrow than what you are today. (If I had to condense all this down into greeting-card format.)
10. ? I’m leaving this one blank for all the things I think I still have yet to learn from him. He may be gone but he’s still teaching me.
Have you had a close friend die – what did you do to keep their memories with you?
Death can be, I think, hardest on those of us left behind.
Please realize that Steve’s choice to not engage in full disclosure with you had zero to do with your trustworthiness, and likely everything to do with past bad fallout from others. Once you’ve experienced that, you’re kind of hesitant to let people in. It becomes weirdly preferable to keep people on the outside to some degree so you can at least have them in your life, albeit in a more superficial capacity, than to lose them completely.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
That’s a really good point and probably true – thank you Amanda!
Such a beautiful post Charlotte, and I remember your post a year ago when he passed. I think the only thing you can say is that what’s important is who Steve was for you. We all play different roles in life, and his role in your life was to be a positive source of energy and friendship with a dash of confusion. I don’t think you should let outside influences change the way you felt/feel about that. There’s no way to go back in the past, no way to ask him about the questions you have or the lifestyle he led outside of your friendship. It’s so hard for us left behind, but the memories (and questions) are really all that we have.
I have had two friends lose a child two days and five weeks old this past year. What is the meaning of that? How is that fair in any way? It’s not, and there are no answers. But those women took love and heartache and all those confused emotions and are getting through it–not over it, but through it. I think that it’s all we can do.
I’m sorry for your loss, and Steve was a lucky, lucky man to have you in his life–regardless of the length of that life.
I’m so so sorry for your friends’ loss! I think the loss of a child is the unfairest cut:( My heart goes out to them!
I feel angry every time a young, fit person dies. I have since my father passed away at 50.
I’m writing about death on my blog today.
((hugs)) I’m so sorry for the loss of your father! I’d love to read your post – would you mind posting the link? It didn’t show up under commentluv…
Thank you Charlotte. Here is the link, and you can do a search on my blog for more posts on the topic:
http://happinessdishbestsavouredhot.blogspot.ca/2013/10/mindfulness-part-iv-facing-our-fears.html
Just a thought. Maybe, just maybe, it’s not about you. Maybe its not what YOU were supposed to gain/learn/whatever from knowing him, but the other way around. Maybe it’s all about what YOU gave to HIM in that short time he had left before going home. Maybe you helped him in ways you will never know, that will have eternal consequences for him… One more question for that “final interview”…
And I just have to say – I seriously thought you were wearing white socks in the “levitation” picture. LOL My first thought was “WHY would Charlotte be wearing white socks with her capris, she usually has better fashion sense than THAT!”
Good point. I can’t control what other people take from me though and deep down we all know I’m a super control freak;) Seriously though, I appreciate this and I do hope he took something from me. The thought of it being for his final interview makes me want to cry all over again:) It’s a beautiful thought!
And Buwhahahhaa about the white socks! Oh I wish I could say that is the first time that mistake has ever been made about my legs…
“I firmly believe everyone has a purpose, a mission, in life and I also think things happen for a reason.”
Perhaps that is one of your flaws.
“Have you had a close friend die”
I have reached the point where I now have more dead friends than live ones.
“what did you do to keep their memories with you?”
Continue to live; for now. This too shall pass.
“I expect an answer.”
Be-ing. That’s about it really, so just be, but you can throw in Carl Sagan’s observation that we are the universe’s way of looking at itself, so while you’re being, have a look. You might see that Steve’s story is universal.
Perhaps that is one of my flaws. I can’t decide if it’s purposeful optimism (choosing happiness in ambiguous situations) or if it’s trying to bend the universe to my will. Both?
Love Carl Sagan:) Thank you kfg!
Love this…lots of tears and laughs thinking of our dear friend! I swear I still “see” him at the club!
Miss you Charlotte!
(((hugs))) lady! I miss you like crazy!
Maybe you’ve answered your own question? It sounds like his purpose in your life was to explore/accept the multi-faceted nature of people, as part of your growth as a storyteller. This story seems like the flip-side of the post about your grandmother, who treated people so awfully, yet whose unexpected lighter side you found after she passed.
I also think one of the above commenters made a good point: maybe you were meant to be in his life for some purpose, too?
Perhaps:) And thank you for pointing out the parallel to my post about my grandma – I hadn’t noticed that and I think you are right!
Don’t over analyze. You’re doing too much. Enjoy and celebrate his life. I’m sure that is what he would want. This is a beautiful post though. It just reminds each of us to really LIVE our lives. Thank you for sharing!
Thanks Terry! I’m the queen of overanalyzing;)
For some reason, I remembered the other day that we were approaching the anniversary of Steve’s death. I prayed for Ashley that day, as I had the pleasure of meeting her when I was in her fitness Lifegroup through church. My heart broke for her as she told us about meeting, marrying and then losing him. So tragic.
Just enjoy the good memories you have and share them with others often; isn’t that how most of us would like to be remembered?.
Indeed we would:) Thank you Heather!
I think you summed up exactly how many of us who knew him are feeling at this time just a year later. Miss you too Charlottle 🙁
Thanks Cassie – this really means a lot to me, especially from you!
There’s a lot you wrote that I could comment on, but since I tend to be ridiculously verbose anyway, I’ll just focus on one part, since I think it’s the one I can be the most useful about.
“I think I was trying to show how conflicted I felt – right or wrong – when I should just be focusing on the good.”
I don’t think you should just focus on the good.
My whole life, I’ve gotten crap from people when someone’s died, because I don’t just focus on the good. It’s not that I harp on the negative, but people have told me that I’m a horrible person (or implied it if they didn’t say it outright) because I can say anything negative about a deceased person.
The fact of the matter though is that people are people, good and bad (not just black and white, as you mentioned). That doesn’t magically change when they die, and by deciding to gloss over their negatives or pretend those points didn’t exist, in my opinion you are dishonoring the person, because you aren’t remembering them for who they really were, but instead who you wanted or wished they would have been.
My mother died from cancer last year, at the ripe old age of 53. I loved my mom, she was pretty much my entire family, and I still struggle now on how to deal with the loss. Even though it’s gotten less painful as the time has gone on, I know I’ll always feel it.
As much as I love her, as much as I miss her though, it doesn’t change the past. She had a lot of mental illness issues, and it was an emotionally abusive home growing up, to the point where I should have been removed from the house in high school. It got worst when I left for college, and I won’t go into details here, but it got to the point where after she called to say goodbye before a suicide attempt, I wished she would succeeded so I wouldn’t have to keep going through all of it. That’s about as low as you can get in a relationship I think, wishing your mother would succeed at killing herself.
She got cancer about five years before she died, and she changed, became a completely different person in the process. For the first time in my life, she was really a mother to me, instead of the other way around. We had five years of the most amazing relationship, five years where I finally understood why some people said their mother was their best friend.
Then, unfortunately, the cancer came back, and she didn’t beat the insurmountable odds this time around.
Her being dead doesn’t change what happened in the past. I know when I was growing up she did the best she could. It doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard for me, doesn’t mean it wasn’t damaging. Her dying doesn’t change my childhood, doesn’t change those aspects of her personality.
It doesn’t mean I love her any less, it doesn’t mean I miss her any less, when I talk honestly about who she was. She had a lot of issues, but she did pretty damn good for what she had to work through.
I don’t beat myself up for not only thinking of the good. There were a lot of good things, and when I cry for my mom, I cry for those, because they’re what I miss. But there were a lot of bad things too, and if I pretended that wasn’t part of my mom, then I’m not really loving who she was. We’re people, scars and flaws and all, and I think it shows how much I did love her that I can honestly see and admit to those aspects of who she was and still cry because I miss her just the same.
It’s okay that you wonder, that you question, that you don’t only think of the good things. Steve apparently had a lot in his past you didn’t know about, and that can be pretty jarring. It doesn’t change how you feel about him, or what he was to you, and thinking about it and wondering doesn’t change who he was either.
He was your friend, and you can wonder about his past and think of his negatives, and he’ll still be your friend. It doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make you unappreciative of his life, or ungrateful of the friendship you had. It just makes you human too.
And that’s okay.
Thank you Anica! I really really needed to hear this right now. I’m having a lot of guilt about writing this post (ah, the curse of the blogger haha!) and I really appreciate your kind words and perspective. I’m so sorry for the devastating loss of your mom and I’m in awe of how you’ve been able to meld all the different aspects of her into a real human whom you loved and respected but also could see the flaws. I can only hope to be as nuanced in the future.
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I have you to explain things I don’t understand! I clicked through to the urban dictionary definition of a money shot — I had no idea!!!!
This is definitely not “your” information to share. Especially considering, Steve himself didn’t feel these were details he cared to highlight…to you. So you should have zero “obligation” to make them public news for the sake of your blog.
I feel this is bizarre and discourteous in consideration of his memory to his family, loved ones, wife and son.
Respectfully…
I did worry about this issue A LOT a lot when I wrote this post which is why I (respectfully) included ZERO details other than the good examples. I didn’t even include general examples of the other info other than to suggest that it exists (as, frankly, it does for all of us). Steve, at least in our interviews for his book, was very open about a lot of information from his past – although clearly not everything – and he did want to share some of it. However, like I wrote I am not him and am not trying to tell his story which is why I actually didn’t share any of that. Clearly I’m conflicted – I’d like to (not because they’re salacious but because they’re real and beautiful and interesting) but I won’t. I am so sorry if you felt hurt by my description here but I am trying very hard to preserve the memory of a beautiful friend for myself, yes, but even more for his family, loved ones, wife and son. Part of that is not making him perfect – it’s allowing him to be who he was, which was an amazing person. I sent this post to Ashley telling her that her comfort was my primary concern and if there was anything here she would like removed I would immediately take it out or take down the post entirely. But she thanked me for what I wrote. To be clear: I have no intent of using Steve’s stories or the stories others sent me about him for any purpose. You don’t need to worry that I am going to make them public news.
I appreciate your concern and for allowing me to clarify this. I hope this helps!
I guess if Ashley is comfortable, my opinion doesn’t matter 🙂
Best to you in keeping his memory alive and, most importantly, well.
Actually your opinion does really matter to me:) As does the opinion of everyone who cared about him. It’s hard to balance it all and I’m grateful you wrote what you did. Like I said in my addendum, if I could do this over I’d stick to just the “10 things I learned from steve” list and delete the rest. Perhaps I should still do that…
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Not to make light of the situation, or maybe just a bit if it helps to cheer you up, but…
That has to be the worst placement for a stepmill, ever. Fall off, crash through the glass, and wind up falling two stories into the lobby.
Hahaha I had the same thought too the first time I went to that gym! Worst part is that from the lobby you get a, ahem, amazing view. Don’t ever wear short shorts on those machines!
図4は、外国の報道によると、韓国大統領朴槿恵は言った日本と韓国の荒涼とした二国間関係という。北朝鮮の核問題と報じ、日本が韓国の主要な同盟国ですが、両国間の緊張が核問題の増加不確実性を解決する。朴槿恵は、場合に謝罪を発行することを拒否し、会議のための日本の安倍晋三首相は無意味になり、日本政府の歴史の中でのインタビューで語った。日本人、特に慰安婦問題が犯した第二次世界大戦の残虐行為の際、韓国はそう非常に怒っていたと報告しました。日本の謝罪と補償の問題は、両国間の緊張を悪化させるだけでなく、日本と韓国の間に領土問題はなかった。 “日本はまだサミットを招集するために必要なものですから、歴史的な問題を主張している場合はどうでしょうか”朴槿恵は、これらの2つの問題が対処されていない、と述べた彼女はさらに、彼らが言うならない謝罪は、過去の悪の確認応答必要ありません”と述べた。ラインが??必要であるが、その後は良い何が？ “報告によると、過去数ヶ月の間に、米国は同盟国日本と韓国の二国間の関係が、少し進展を修正しようとしました。韓国は6カ国協議のメンバーであるため、その一方で、核問題を解決するには2つの国の間の緊張はまた、問題に影を落としている。以前は、フランスの新聞 “ル·フィガロ”のインタビューにも日本に非難されてとのインタビューで、朴槿恵は、また、日本が近隣諸国、摩擦の歴史の中でレガシーに取り組む、ドイツから学ぶべきであると述べた。11月4日の日本連合が調査を実施し、無期限の雇用非公式労働者を避けるために、いくつかの日本企業が、最大の契約期間を設定するために始めました。非公式労働者が安定化することができる採用するためには同じ会社の労働者が繰り返し五年以上更新契約を締結した場合、日本政府は、2013年4月から始まり、法律を改正し、私は仕事を継続する意志を持っている場合は、必要としないとエンタープライズの更新契約。企業は、彼らがいつまでも働き続ける採用することが義務付けられています。しかし、最近になって、いくつかの日本企業が非公式の労働者を雇用不定避けるために、最大の契約期間を設定するために始めました。日本放送協会（NHK）のテレビニュースによると、1000一時的な労働者や日雇い労働者と他の労働者のために2013年9月に事件の調査のための新たなシステムの使用、労働組合日本連盟は非公式ネットワークアンケートを行った。調査結果は、回答者の11.9％があることを示した”これまでは、企業は、契約期間の上限を設定しない、しかし、企業は新たな契約期間の上限を設定します。”
This is why the brand new crack will be the musical instrument to
help you out and still have you ever before dominate the sport.