It's a line from The Philadelphia Story, an old-style screwball comedy that Steph and I watched together half a dozen times. In the movie, someone asks Hepburn, "Yar? What does that mean?"
"It means … oh, what does it mean?" She thinks about it. "It means she was easy to handle, quick to the helm, fast, bright, everything a boat should be." She's talking about a sailboat, but in the movie's subtext she's also talking about true love.
It's a silly movie, with a cliched
plot that draws to an outdated resolution which always annoyed Steph & I,
but undeniably, The Philadelphia Story is fun. The movie, and that line,
popped into my head today, as I was remembering Stephanie, as I often do. She
was remarkable in so many ways.
Smart is the first word that comes to mind when anyone asks me to
describe her, and I wish more people asked, more often. Steph was educated,
sure — she went to three universities, earned two degrees and all that, so she
knew stuff. But a lot of people go to college and earn degrees, and Stephanie
was smarter than those people, smarter than that kind of smart, by which I mean
… oh, what do I mean?
She was abstract-smart — is
that a thing? When an unpredictable predicament came along, Stephanie was able to
look at it, and innately but almost immediately understand what was needed. No hemming and hawing; just give her enough time to think it through
and she'd have a sound decision; the right decision.
For example, the first big problem
Stephanie faced after we met was that we were quickly and absolutely in love,
but we lived a thousand miles apart. What were we going to do about that?
Together
we decided that she'd move to San Francisco, but before the decision, I remember
seeing the gears turning behind Stephanie's eyes as she connected all the interlocking
pieces of the puzzle. It was a quick
decision, yet very thoroughly she'd thought it through. And that's the
kind of smart I mean, by the word "smart."
A few more words, in no particular
order, to briefly describe my marvelous Stephanie:
Good. There's a treacly cliché you sometimes hear on the
political left, often (albeit incorrectly) attributed to Gandhi: "Be the
change you want to see in the world." And that's what Steph was. She wanted
the world to be a better place, and that mission began, she thought, by treating
people fair and square, helping our neighbors, and metaphorically, metaphysically,
flushing our own toilet instead of dumping our crap onto other people's lawns.
Never heard her say any of that, though.
Stephanie offered no highfalutin words about doing the right thing, and she usually
didn't complain when I did the wrong thing, which was often. She was a genuine,
honest, and decent person, and she simply did the right thing, just
about always.
Courageous. Sure, she faced her disability with courage; that goes
without saying. But she also lived her life with courage, long before
any awful diagnosis, as well as during and after the diagnoses. She was always making
plans, setting goals for herself, and bringing her plans to fruition and reaching
her goals. If Steph was here today, I wouldn't be sitting and typing; she'd
have made plans for our weekend, and we'd be doing something adventurous, maybe
something we'd never done before.
Sweet. She was thoughtful, caring, kind, supportive — all the
adjectives that describe a wonderful wife and partner. When I needed a hug, she
knew it before I knew it. When I needed advice, she had already thought things
through, and she always had good suggestions — but she wouldn't tell me what to
do unless I asked. Reckon she knew, me being a man, that I wouldn't take advice
until I'd asked for it.
Fun and funny. Every dang day we
were together, that woman put a smile on my face and made me laugh. You'd think
after all our years together, I'd know her sense of humor inside out and
backwards, but really, no. Sometimes I thought I knew what she was going
to say, but usually she surprised me. She was always saying something
unexpected, taking our conversations and our lives in directions I hadn't anticipated.
She often made me stop and think, and more often made me stop and laugh.
I could go on and on about Stephanie
Webb … for thirteen months now, I have, and I intend to continue going on and
on about her, for as long as I'm able. For today, though, let's say this: Steph
was never easy to handle, but she was quick to the helm, fast, bright, and
everything a boat should be. My, she was yar.