If I had to describe my husband, Stephen Kirk Wagner, as a combination of movie characters, I would say he was Aladdin + Ferris Bueller + Chris McCandless (Into the Wild). He was funny, charismatic, talented, intelligent, adventurous, not afraid to break the rules, and could have happily lived in a tent in the wilderness, foraging for natural food sources. He always marched to the beat of his own drum. But if I had to describe Stephen in one simple phrase, I would say that he lived life voraciously. He never let a day go to waste.

Stephen had an immense heart with a strong drive to help people and spread God’s love to the least of these. When a homeless person would come to church, he would take them out to lunch and get to know them. He wanted everyone to feel seen, appreciated, and loved. He had an amazing ability to connect to neurodiverse individuals. He was so warm and kind to my uncle with severe autism and my grandmother with dementia.

But of course, my favorite thing about Stephen was his deep, vast love for me. It was nothing short of adoration. These are some of the text messages he would send to me on an average day:

“I love you as much as life itself, I can say nothing greater to you than that, it is true.”

“I forgive you in advance for any mistake you make for the rest of our lives, I mean that mi amore… so let’s make mistakes together and live out this love story. I love you and only you in this way.”

“Thank you my princess for all you are. I’ll never stop loving you.”

And I truly was his princess. I would ask him to do something mundane like unloading the dishwasher, and he would say, “My love, it is an honor to unload the dishwasher for you.” You don’t meet many gentlemen who speak to their wives like that!

Like every relationship, we annoyed and frustrated each other at times. But ultimately, our love for each other overcame any minor hurdle we faced. We were both highly sensitive people, so we learned how to dance a delicate dance with each other that respected the other person’s sensitivities. Stephen’s sensitivity was particularly astute. His ability to analyze other people’s body language and slight changes in vocal tone was uncanny. This is a quote from Eva Marie Saint talking about working with Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront, and it happens to be a very accurate description of my marriage with Stephen (also, he would think it’s pretty awesome that I’m comparing him to an icon like Brando!):

“I did refer to him once as a hummingbird because you just felt his sensitivity – his sensitivity to life, I guess. A hummingbird you’re in awe of, and you can’t really catch it, but every time I see one I wish I could get even closer… It felt like he understood me more than I understood myself, knew more about me than I felt I knew myself.”

There were many times in our relationship when I’d be in a weird mood but not be able to pinpoint the precise reason, and then he’d step in with some profound analysis of what was being stirred up inside me and how to move through it. And most of the time, his assessment was remarkably accurate.

In addition to the graceful energetic dance of relationship we refined over the years, we also literally just danced. A LOT. Stephen taught me to dance early on in our relationship, and it was a regular source of joy in our love story. It varied between ecstatic and chaotic movement expression, sensual salsa, fun-loving swing, and occasionally we would even move our dining table to make the dining room a dance studio for an elegant waltz.

When we were married on September 16, 2017, we made a very profound vow to each other:

“We will care for each other’s spirits until we are together beyond the stars.”

We did not say “Til death do us part”, as most couples do. Our commitment was more than that. Stephen wrote this beautiful vow, and at the time I thought “Oh, how poetic and romantic.” But after he died, these words took on a whole new meaning. We aren’t “together beyond the stars” yet, but I know that he is caring for my spirit, just like he promised. He is watching over me, guiding me, and giving me the strength, courage, and wisdom that I need to find my way in the world as a widow. And I am keeping his spirit alive by living life voraciously, just as he did for 39 years. This probably goes without saying, but I keep on dancing 🙂