StephMemorial: Stephanie’s last happy day

For many years, I was largely apart from my family, but we’ve been back in touch, and this summer some of them were planning to visit. My brother Carl and his wife Kathy, my brother David and his wife Keum, and my almost 90-year-old mother were coming to Wisconsin for four days in mid-August, to stay in the tourist-trap Dells (about 60 miles from Madison) and see us.

In all the time Stephanie and I had been together, we’d only seen anyone from my family once, several years earlier, when Carl and Kathy had passed nearby, and we spent an afternoon with them in Illinois. She had liked them, and the feeling was mutual. So, Stephanie was looking forward to seeing them again, and meeting my mother and my other brother and his wife.

Let me emphasize, I was looking forward to seeing my family too, but Stephanie was almost giddy with anticipation, asking me to re-brief her on everybody and everything, and peppering me with questions. These are people she’d heard about for decades, and she was finally going to meet them, and she very much wanted to make a good impression.

But she also wasn’t feeling well, and she hadn’t been feeling well for weeks. She worried that she might not be up to spending much time with them, and indeed, the day they arrived, she asked me to make her apologies and go see my family without her. I went to dinner with them at some restaurant, while she stayed home.

Left to right, that's me, my mom, and Stephanie.

On the second day of their visit, Stephanie felt a lot better. She felt fine for the whole day, and we spent hours and hours with my family, laughing and telling stories and having a good time. Stephanie was smiling and talking and very much herself, all day. The seven of us spent the afternoon and evening chatting with everyone at the resort in the Dells, and we went to a Culver’s, where Stephanie had some ice cream, and to a cheese store, where we bought a huge bag of squeaky curds. Steph had a great time, and she was so very glad that she’d had a chance to meet my family and spend some time with them.

For the two remaining days of their visit she stayed home in bed, again not feeling well. But for that one day, Tuesday the 14th of August 2018, she felt great, enjoyed herself, and she was delighted to be part of a new family — my family. Our family. I don’t believe in miracles, but that day came close.

I am so thankful that some of my family visited, and so very glad that Stephanie met them, liked them, and enjoyed a day with them. She was so very happy that day, so beautiful, so … Stephanie. It was her first real “Steph day” at full strength in ages, and it turned out to be her last day feeling well, her last day of really being herself.

Welcome to StephMemorial

Stephanie Webb was my wife, my closest friend, my angel. We were together from 1997 until 2018, and for all that time we were head-over-heels in love. She was the best thing that ever happened to me, or ever will.

Who was Stephanie? She was complicated, and sometimes difficult. She was brilliant but insecure, eloquent but introverted, strong-willed but soft-spoken, tough as titanium but always vulnerable, a dreamer but utterly down-to-earth. Sometimes she was deeper than the Marianas Trench, and other times so silly you'd be giggling for hours.

She wasn't famous, and she was never arrested or made headlines. She worked ordinary office jobs, but after hours and on the weekend she was adventurous — oh, the places we've been (though always on a budget). She developed major medical problems toward the end, but other than a few dark days she generally kept an optimistic outlook. She was 26 when we met, and 48 when she died.

This domain was created to post her obituary on-line, so old friends who'd been out of touch could Google her name and know that she'd passed away. After writing the obituary, though, there was more to be said. And then, more still.

I don't want to forget any of the moments we spent together, the things we did, or the promises we made, kept, and broke — but I'm old and sometimes forgetful, and it's not likely that my memory will improve with age. So I'm writing it. Almost all of it. I reckon that's going to take the rest of my life.

I can't tell you everything about Stephanie, of course. As well as I knew her, there must be many stories she never told me, and many stories she told me that I've forgotten. There are also, of course, some stories that I'm not going to share.

She didn't often speak about her childhood, her adolescence, her first years of adulthood, and her answers when I asked were usually brief. She got the recipe for Stephanie exactly right, that's for sure — but I wasn't there while she was creating herself, day by day and bit by bit, so my focus will be on the time we had together.

It was delightful and never dull spending those years with her, and it's my hope to convey some small smidgen of the joy of Stephanie. Of course, her spirit can't be captured and posted on-line, and there's no doubt that I'm going to fail. But I am going to try.

I am under no illusion that this site will be popular. That's not the point. When I write about Stephanie it's like spending more time with her, or re-spending old times with her, and that's the best thing left in my life.

My name is Doug, and I'm (still and always) Stephanie's husband. If you knew her, or have something to say about the website, or if you've spotted a typo, you can reach me via the form below.