I have a lot of memories of you growing up, being babysat on a regular basis in your home.  Being dropped off in the wee hours of the morning when it's still dark outside.  The smell of coffee in the house.  The shiny shoes.  The uniform.  The immaculately clean home.  The occassional sneaked donut my way for breakfast.  MOXIE.  Blech.  How could anyone drink that??  :)  Thanks for tricking me one 4th of July at Aunt Joe's and Uncle Bob's that it was good soda.  Nope.  But in reflecting on the love of Moxie... it suits you - you had moxie - you encouraged others to have moxie - determination, nerve, character.  You were such a leader in the family and outside the family.  In good times and in the hard times.  Moxie.

He was my mom's big brother, heart of gold, gentle, and I always felt safe with him.  I always knew how generous and caring he was, how he took care of my mom and brothers when they needed his help.  How much he loved his mom and dad.  How respectful he was of others.  Looking back on my childhood memories of time in his home - I realize that I got to be that special kid who gets doted on, spoiled and sent home back to their parents and other siblings... but it was all love.  I am grateful to have had that extra love in my life at such an early age.  It helped mold me into who I am today.

When I was very little, I had a pewter teddy bear bank, that I received as a gift for being in my oldest brother's wedding as their flower girl.  So I couldn't have been more than five or six when this happened. He saw the bear and had a clever idea.  I learned a trick that still use to this day with little kids.  He asked me if he could "feed the bear."  I didn't know what he was talking about - and he put a quarter or some change - whatever he had - inside and perhaps because I am blonde, it took the putting the money inside it's belly to make me understand what he was talking about.  In exchange I gave him a big ole kiss on the cheek and was so excited!  Then of course I wanted everyone to feed my bear and exchanged hugs and kisses for my bear being fed.  That bear bought me a lot of ice cream when the ice cream truck came by.  That trick stuck with me all these years.  To this day, I keep a little piggy bank in my office for when coworkers bring their kids around and they LOVE to "feed the pig" - I keep change just so they can feed it and it's always a big hit.  So thank you for that Uncle Steve.

Three years ago, we were sitting in a hospital room together with his mom, my grandma, just the three of us.  I walked in and placed her favorite rosary beads in her hand.  We witnessed her do the rosary after her massive stroke.  She couldn't communicate to us - but we witness her communicate to God through the beads I placed in her hands.  At first he didn't think it was anything because she apparently had been lifting her arm up and down off and on but we couldn't figure out why.  But in this case, she was moving the beads around to get her fingers on the cross.  It became very aware what was happening was real.  Bead by bead - she would hold it and stop and then move to the next one and stop - all the way around.  It took her a while and Uncle Steve, for as tough a man he was, he was never afraid to show emotion in front of me.  We were amazed and tears were flowing.  I am grateful to have shared that special moment with him.  Thank you for not being afraid to cry in front of others.

So that brings me to my final story I'd like to share.  It's a very personal and intimate story that I wished I thanked him later as I became older, but because it was such an intimate and special moment - it's been virtually impossible for me to talk about it until recently with his death.  His first wife, my Aunt Nancy, was my caregiver while my parents worked, up until we moved away when I was seven, and then I spent a few weeks here and there visiting on occassion - usually in the summer.  When she died when I was twelve, very suddenly, I was devastated.  We all were.  It was a confusing time as she was so young.  I was invited to come up and spend the weekend with him shortly after her death, and keep him company.  The plan was to hang out and go see the movie Babe, run some errands, eat yummy food, and because I've been told I've always been an old soul - I knew, without it being said, that my purpose was to keep him company... even as a twelve year old - I was willing to just be there for him.  (iPads and iPhones didn't exist back then... or the internet... so I didn't really  have much going on except for slumber parties and roller rinks)

One of the errands was to pick out the artwork for the plaque for the grave marker which was not yet there.  He asked me if I'd like to help choose or if I was okay to sit and wait.  I felt so honored to be invited to help pick artwork on something so permanent - of course I chose to help.  We felt really good about the decision and then went to where she was buried to leave flowers, and he surprised me by asking if I'd like to pray with him.  We said the Lord's Prayer - and thankfully, my dad taught me that at a young age so I was relieved I knew the words.  Tears were shed but it was very "mission accomplished."

Reading this may bring feelings of sadness but truly, it was healing and a life changing experience to stand with my uncle and it be okay to be sad and to know it was okay to cry.  I had been so mad that God took her away... and her death was very confusing for me as a just turned twelve year old.  I was still very much a little girl.  Then we saw the film Babe and laughed and cried and it was very healing for me.  I think it was healing for him as well.  I went home changed about how I felt about death, and learned some valuable coping skills surrounding grief from him.  

Thank you for letting me be a part of that healing process - as difficult and rather unsual as it was to be twelve and feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders as I flipped through what artwork could go on a grave marker for someone I loved so dearly - that weekend helped ease that weight tremendously.  I didn't know at the time your name would also be on the marker until a while later to leave flowers.  I'm not sure if this shared experience meant a great deal to you or not or if you were just glad it was one less thing to think about... we never talked about it afterwards - but I can't thank you enough for inviting me to help.

And as hard as it was to lose my Aunt Nancy - I was so happy when he found Ann.  In fact, I found an old journal where I wrote how elated I was that he was going to marry her.  Her presence in his life and in our lives, her love, laughter, positive energy, and light was healing for him and for the family.  It's been an honor to be the niece of Stephen W. Mitchell.  I have learned a lot from him that I will carry on and have carried on in my adult life.  And I have learned a lot from watching Ann as well - as she blended into our family about hope and love, and learning to accept people named Ann who don't spell their names with an "e."  :)  <3  (for those of you who don't know that is an Anne of Green Gables reference)

I've been very touched reading the condolences though it is difficult to read them because it makes it more real.  I will carry Uncle Steve in my heart as I have Aunt Nancy and all the other precious people in my life that are no longer here in body.  I will always be forever your Maureenie.  Thank you for loving me so much and being such a good big brother to my mom and such a good Uncle to me and the family.

I can see from other people's stories how much you inspired people outside of the family.  Well done good and faithful servant.  Well done.  I pray that you are surrounded by the light of God and filled with peace that surpasses understanding - what a life you have lived!  

Let us remember, "life is short, and we do not have too much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel with us, so be quick to love and make haste to be kind."

Love,
Maureen Hains
AKA - Maureenie