"Another quick and loving tribute to my wife..." from Steve

You'd think by this point in time I'd have posted anything of noteworthiness written by Steve from his blogging days. Truthfully, this may be the last unless I find something hidden away. I had hoped to dole these out, mostly on the dates he originally posted them, over five years. Turns out, I can't wait that long; I didn't do the math correctly; I was afraid I'd forget to post and a little part of him would be forgotten. All are true but the last one might strike closest to my heart. So many things about Steve, about us, I've forgotten in the past four and a half years. And because Steve wrote about this conversation, I can remember it. A little part of Steve, recaptured.

Another quick and loving tribute to my wife... - December 21, 2005

I meant to write about this last week, but forgot. This is how far my wife has come along as a football fan: While watching another Packer abomination I started bitching about special teams. "I CANT BELIEVE HOW #$@))$% AWFUL THE SPECIAL TEAMS ARE!!!! I DON'T !*#&^%@ GET IT! THEY SHOULD FIRE THAT BALD !*(!@#(*@^&*$@ (Packer Special Teams coach John Bonemego) MOTHER&#(*$(#,#@!$^* @#^*@#($&*#. GODDAMMIT. My wife calmly replied "You know all those injuries to the startes?" "Yeah," I said, "what about them?" "Well, who do you think replaced the starters? Special teams guys. These special teams guys are guys they got off the street to replace the special teams players who replaced the injured starters. That's why they suck. It's not the coaches fault."

I was speechless. And I hadn't even thought about that.

Right again sweetie.

Lazy Cologne

Finally used the last of Steve's "lazy cologne". Took 4 1/2 years but I was trying to make it last. I don't even https://t.co/8MVeJyhv7R
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) December 16, 2014

Day Twenty-Seven: Month of Thankfulness

Day 27: To, once again, have family traditions. To, once again, have my own family. #TruelyBlessed #MonthOfThankfulness #RemarriedWidow
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 28, 2014

Day Twenty-Five: Month of Thankfulness

Day 25: A loving thankful hug from my 9 year old in the middle of her first multiple friends sleepover. #LoveMyGirls #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 26, 2014

Day Twenty-Four: Month of Thankfulness

Day 24: Hubby asked to work from home for the day, after spending weekend in the hospital, & his boss gave him a freebie day. #MonthOfThanks
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 25, 2014

Day Twenty-Three: Month of Thankfulness

Day 23: Watched our oldest at Come and Play for the 2nd year. Great tradition to have started. #MonthOfThankfulness #RVAsymphony
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 24, 2014

Day Twenty-Two: Month of Thankfulness

Day 22: HOME! #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 22, 2014

Day Eighteen: Month of Thankfulness

Day 18: 8th grader on high school swim team? Check. 4th grader in Reading Olympics? Check. Feels like a good momi day. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 19, 2014

Day Sixteen: Month of Thankfulness

Day 16: A day spent in jammies in front of the fire with a good book. #MonthOfThankfulness

— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 17, 2014

Day Fifteen: Month of Thankfulness

Day 15: Playing truth or dare with 13 year olds resulted in me chugging a beer. Never accept a dare from a 13 yr old. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 16, 2014

Day Thirteen: Month of Thankfulness

Day 13: Happy to help reunite a roaming puppy at the high school before it could get hit, back to her owners. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 14, 2014

Day Eleven: Month of Thankfulness

Day 11: Visit to the Governor's school & a quick bite to eat at Magpie w/ the oldest is a great way to spend a Tuesday night! #MonthOfThanks
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 12, 2014

Day Ten: Month of Thankfulness

Day 10: Husband that talks out all the boring day-to-day stuff so we can keep moving forward certainly is a blessing. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 11, 2014

Day Nine: Month of Thankfulness

Day 9: Hubby doing the home repair/upgrade thang proving he's more capable than he ever realized, makes my heart smile. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 10, 2014

Day Eight: Month of Thankfulness

Day 8: Night at the symphony of my favorite composer, Tchaikovsky, w/ my favorite man in a kilt followed by dinner. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 9, 2014

Day Seven: Month of Thankfulness

Day 7: Kids off for the weekend and I get to attend the symphonie w/ my fella. #WeekendBliss #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 8, 2014

Day Six: Month of Thankfulness

Day 6: The bribe of morning bedside coffee delivery so I can glitter the 13 year old's eyes for school spirit day. #MonthOfThanksgiving
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 7, 2014

Day Five: Month of Thankfulness

Day 5: Got a phone call from my little brother informing me I'm to be an auntie again. Beyond thrilled! #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 5, 2014

Day Four: Month of Thankfulness

Day 4: Took my youngest with me to vote AND I've been married for 6 months. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 4, 2014

Day Three: Month of Thankfulness

Day 3: Watched our 8th grader get inducted into Jr. Beta w/ our 4th grader on my lap. Pure loving pride. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 3, 2014

Day Two: Month Of Thankfulness

Day 2: Thankful for extra hands in the house to help with painting walls and entertaining children. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 2, 2014

Day One: Month of Thankfulness

Day 1: Thankful for kids roasting marshmellows in the livingroom fireplace tonight - and the many nights to come. #MonthOfThankfulness
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) November 2, 2014

The Great Gatsby

If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the "creative temperament." - it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again.

 The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Happy Anniversary from Green Bay" from Steve

Steve wrote the following post on our 3rd wedding anniversary trip to Green Bay. I still wear the leather coat he gave me. I have the multiple-player signed football he wrote about, too. The Pack won that game. Davenport (long since traded off and then out of football) snapped his ankle on his first play. Favre is long gone, but Aaron Rogers seems to be an alright fella. I don't know about Karma, but the Pack plays on.

And so do I.

Happy Anniversary from Green Bay - October 9, 2005

Here we are in Green Bay, Sunday morning 7:45 local time and I can’t sleep any more. Game time is 12:00 noon. The tailgate party at Brett Favre’s Steak House begins at 9:00. Do I need to say more?

Of course I do....

Karen and I arrived in Green Bay Friday morning, checked into the hotel and immediately headed over to Lambeau Field. A quick aside to set the perspective: Tuesday October 12th is our third wedding anniversary and this is our anniversary trip. Since tradition dictates couples purchase leather for the third anniversary I bought Karen a warm leather jacket for Green Bay. Karen bought me an official NFL game ball. So off we went to Lambeau field, Karen dressed in her new leather jacket and my game ball tucked in her backpack, in search of Packers to sign the ball.

Green Bay is notorious for cold weather, but our southern acclimated bodies were not prepared for 40 degree temperatures and wind chills in the 30’s so we headed into Lambeau for some Packer history.

The first stop: The Packers Hall of Fame. Picture a room shaped like a football with display cases on either side and a divider down the middle. Each display case marks a decade starting from 1919 when the Indian Packing Company sponsored Curly Lambeaus fledgling football team and ending with today’s Packers. We made it as far as the 1950’s before we had to catch our tour of the stadium.

I’ve done a lot of cool shit in my life, but the stadium tour pretty much topped them all. It’s not just because I learned some cool stuff, or got to sit in the luxury boxes, or got to see the inner workings of the stadium, no. My wife and I got to walk through the tunnel and out to the field. Yes, that tunnel, and we’ve got the pictures to prove it. I swear to Christ it gave me goose bumps. Oh, and we also saw punter B.J. Sander giving an interview to a local news bimbo. Sander was hitting on her pretty hard and my guess would be that they would hook up.

After the tour we had lunch at Curly’s Pub which overlooks the parking lot. Karen noticed some people standing by a fenced off gate and quickly surmised that this was where the Packers would be driving out. In other words, this was the spot for autographs.

We headed over to the fence and within five minutes I was way too cold to stay. However Karen, all 105 lbs of her insisted that she wanted to stay and try to get autographs for my ball. And we stayed, and she did. Her first was V.P. John Jones, followed by fullback Vontay Leach and linebacker Robert Thomas. Karen was thrilled. Later she scored Defensive Tackles coach Robert Nunn and Director of Player Personnel Reggie McKenzie (I was really happy about that one. Reggie is old school)

Karen found out that she could get more autographs on Saturday so we called it a day and went back to our hotel. We had a nice dinner at the Titletown Brewing Company, a brewpub located in an old rail station, and were asleep in bed by 9:00.
Saturday we woke and headed to the field at 10. Karen positioned herself at the fence (temperatures in the mid 40s and overcast) and I got on line for the book signing.

Oh yeah, I forgot. Karen found out that the Favre family would be signing copies of the book “Favre” written by Brett and Bonita (Brett’s mom) Favre. The signing was to begin at noon so there were only about 5 people ahead of me. The celebrity signers would include Bonita Favre, Scott Favre (Brett’s brother) and Deanna Favre who is Brett’s wife and the plan was you’d get one signature and it was pot luck. I sincerely hoped I didn’t get Scott but what the hell, $5.00 for each book sold went to their charity so who cares? It was all for a good cause. Meanwhile Karen come running in with the football. She had just scored Offensive Line coach Larry Beightol and had several players tell her they’d sign the ball when they were done with their walk through. She bought me a cup of coffee and while I waited inside the warm atrium my little trooper headed back to the front line to face the elements.

I’m running out of time here so let me get right to the good part. Karen filled the ball with signature upon signature, scoring too many Packers to name. Her coup-de-gras was Aaron Rogers who signed our ball and left everyone else standing there empty handed. It pays to have a little adorable wife who I might add would do anything for me. I'm really that lucky. Meanwhile, I got to meet Bonita, Deanna, and Scott. All three signed my book. It was so worth the wait…

Well, it’s now 8:30 local time. Karen’s up and it’s time to get ready to go to the game. She doesn’t know yet, but her man Davenport is starting. So is Roy Manning, the Michigan Wolverine the Packers picked up as an undrafted free agent. And Brett Favre is going to start as well. I’d say the karma is looking good for the Packers.

Murder in a Time Before Google

I suspect that a great part of the healing that comes after losing someone you love lies not only in the stories that we tell after they’re gone, but also in how we choose to tell them.

- Murder in a Time Before Google

Tweet

9 yr old sang happy birthday to my dead husband's ashes this morning. In case u were wondering how my day is going. #LoveMyKids #WidowMoment
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) September 16, 2014

New York Minute - Don Henley

New York Minute | Don Henley by iTrvlr

Gravity

Kowalski: Listen, do you want to go back or do you want to stay here? I get it. It's nice up here. You can just shut down all the systems, turn out all the lights, and just close your eyes and tune out everybody. There's nobody up here that can hurt you. It's safe. I mean, what's the point of going on? What's the point of living? Your [husband] died. Doesn't get any rougher than that. But still, it's a matter of what you do now. If you decide to go, then you gotta just get on with it. Sit back, enjoy the ride. You gotta plant both your feet on the ground and start livin' life.

Stone: How did you get here?

Kowlaski: I'm telling you, it's a hell of a story. Hey, Ryan?

Stone: What?

Kowlaski: It's time to go home.

- Gravity

Feeling Good - Nina Simone

Fahrenheit 451

'Stuff your eyes with wonder,' he said 'live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping it's life away. To hell with that' he said, 'shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.'

Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury

4 Years

...4 things I need to tell you...

1.) I met a man, fell in love, and got married.

I never expected to date again, let alone get married.

I know you would want this new life and new love for me. I would want it for you if I had been the one to die, leaving you behind and alone. We even spoke about it on several occasions. Doesn't stop me from feeling like I've cheated on you.

Most days I'm happy in my new life.

No.

Every day I'm happy in my new life.

Some days, though, I imagine living in a parallel universe where you're still alive, we're still together, and I've never met this amazing man who loves me even while I still love you. Maybe loves me because I still love you.

He's an amazing man, Stephen. I think you'd have been great friends.

2.) I have two beautiful children.

They are smart, funny, amazing, mischievous, talented, imaginative, loving, kind, giving, brash, loud, quiet, shy, outgoing, girls that I adore with every ounce of my being. They fill my days and nights with chaos and joy, with running dialogs about purple monkeys flying at midnight and unicorns farting rainbows, with subtle winks that are anything but subtle, tears of pain and frustration, tears of joy and accomplishment, giggles and laughter that bounce around rooms, and smiles. Smiles that can teach Times Square a thing or two about lighting up a space.

You and I wanted children. We wanted six because we were insane like that. After eight years of trying, we finally gave up on that dream and chose a different dream. That last dream we shared died when you died. So much of me died when you died. I did, eventually, create a new dream. And I've been lucky enough to have this dream include these two wonderful girls that I look forward to watching grow into fabulous women.

I wish we had the opportunity to raise children together. I still think we'd have made beautiful and talented, but blind as bat, children. I believe you would have been a marvelous father. Somehow, though, I feel you smile over my shoulder when I watch the girls play, when I watch them succeed at something they've worked hard to master. As if you know, as if you watch over them during the times I can't.

3.) I've kept our house but I don't live there anymore.

I've moved to the suburbs. In an HOA. Remember how I used to rail against HOA's? Turns out, it's not so bad. I've met a lot of mother's of kids the girls are friends with in the neighborhood. We've become a mommy-network, relying on each other when some unexpected occurrence happens. In the process, I've made some truly amazing friends. I really would have hated it here without kids, though. In that much, I was correct.

Our house suffered some damage in a storm about three years ago. As a result I removed the old deck we had been trying to destroy for years. I replaced it with an extension of the roof for a covered porch. Ran electricity out for an overhead fan. It's gorgeous. Then I moved out. Still haven't redone the kitchen. The one room we always wanted to tackle but something else would pop up. I'll remodel the kitchen before I move back. Once the kids move out for college, Doug and I plan to sell his house and move back there. For the time being, it's difficult for me to even walk through it. Even with someone else's furniture filling the rooms, I still expect to see you walk around a corner. Eventually, I expect, that will wear off. Four years hasn't been long enough, though.

4.) I think about you every day.

It doesn't always hurt anymore. Frequently I still get that quick stab through the heart, my breath will catch for a moment, then my heart rate and breathing return to normal. But more and more the thought of you rises, passes through me, and nestles back into my very marrow. Memories of you are a part of me that flow and ebb, pumping through my veins, bouncing along with white and red blood cells. Missing you has become less of an assault. It is more familiar. At four years, it should be more familiar.

I think about how absolutely hilarious you'd find me now. Mother of two, living in suburbia, president of the summer swim team, driving my white Camry with red racing stripes, music always blaring. Same girl, different woman. Same woman, different girl.

I always wear at least once piece of jewelry you gave me. Sometime I still wear your wedding ring around my neck. It makes me feel closer to you when I feel small and insignificant. The baby blanket of the adult widow.

I talk about you. To Doug and the girls. Our youngest decided long ago that you are her guardian angel. If you can guard us, I know you'll watch out for the girls. You know where my heart always leads. And they are my heart now.

I miss you still. I always will. But the missing of you has changed. As I have changed. I love you. That will never change. I will always love you.
  

Disintegration - The Cure

So it's all come back round to breaking apart again
Breaking apart like I'm made up of glass again
Making it up behind my back again
Holding my breath for the fear of sleep again
Holding it up behind my head again
Cut in deep to the heart of the bone again
Round and round and round
And it's coming apart again
Over and over and over

Now that I know that I'm breaking to pieces
I'll pull out my heart
And I'll feed it to anyone
Crying for sympathy
Crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd
And the three cheers from everyone
Dropping through sky
Through the glass of the roof
Through the roof of your mouth
Through the mouth of your eye
Through the eye of the needle
It's easier for me to get closer to heaven
Than ever feel whole again

In Time

Sylvia: You saved my life.

Will: When?

Sylvia: Now. And every day since I met you.

- In Time

#MayThe4thBeWithYou

Breakfast eaten. Legs shaved. Unicorn shipped in. Let the wedding festivities begin. #WeddingCountdown #MayThe4thBeWithYou
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) May 4, 2014

1 Day - Wedding Countdown

At pre-marital massage booked by future husband to be. I've choosen wisely. 1 day. #WeddingCountdown
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) May 3, 2014

5 Days - Wedding Countdown

On the way home from the groomer's, Belle decided a fart fest was in order. Dogs celebrate in the oddest of ways. 5 days. #WeddingCountdown
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) April 29, 2014

#Blessed

I have the most amazing in-laws who still love & celebrate with me after the death of our Steve. #Blessed pic.twitter.com/in2r15nwch
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) April 28, 2014

10 Days - Wedding Countdown

Of COURSE I know where the wedding rings are! (If "somewhere in the house" counts.) 10 days. #WeddingCountdown
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) April 24, 2014

11 Days - Wedding Countdown

Someone save me. Just added 2 One Direction songs to the wedding playlist. 11 days. #GoodStepMommy #WeddingCountdown
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) April 23, 2014

12 Days - Wedding Countdown

Creating the wedding playlist and I realize: as a family, we have an odd assortment of musical tastes. 12 days. #WeddingCountdown
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) April 22, 2014

#WeddingCountdown

Listening to 12 yr old practice Here Comes the Bride on her cello w/ harp accompaniment. Ready to start walking right now! #WeddingCountdown
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) April 18, 2014

16 Days - Wedding Countdown

Fabulously beautiful shoes today. Now with marriage license. 16 days. #WeddingCountdown
— Kiki Marcus (@KikiMarcus) April 18, 2014

Dear Abby - Eat it

Dear Abby columns are one of those things I read to pass the time while waiting for search results on something else. Alright, yes, sometimes it's Miss Manners. Depends on what level of idiot I want wandering through my brain cavity as I wait for the hourglass on the screen to sort itself out. Eventually, there's always an idiot who has an opinion on death or funerals that just... stresses me out.

DEAR ABBY:

May I share a pet peeve of mine? I wish you'd raise the consciousness of people who write obituaries and fail to mention the musician who provides the music for the funerals and memorials. The musician often does more preparation for the services than the pallbearers. Why are their names omitted? I usually want to know who they are when I attend.

-- WONDERING IN GEORGIA

DEAR WONDERING:

I can think of a couple of reasons. The first is that some obituaries are actually taken from the eulogy, which may have been written prior to the death by someone in the family. If the obituary was written by an employee of a newspaper, the information may have been taken as part of a standard list of questions about the deceased and any survivors.

Frankly, I think it would be more suitable if the musician's name was included on the program. If it hasn't been included, there is nothing rude about telling the officiant or a family member how much you enjoyed the music and asking who provided it.

 
Here's how I would have responded:

DEAR LOONEY,

You have to be looney to even think that "pet peeve" and "funeral" belong in the same conversation. Wondering is what I'm left with as I question your level of social awareness.

After the expense of a $10,000 funeral, I don't think the extra $10 it will cost to publish in the newspaper the name, of a likely stranger, who performs at the funeral, will break me. The idea that the performer is of the same fucking relevance as my husband's family, whom he left behind grieving his early death, may actually break me. Which means I may break you. Obituaries aren't public announcements for musical performances. I suggest you attend the local symphony for music and attend to the dead and bereaved at funerals.

Actually, I suggest you stay home. The grieving don't deserve a clod like you using up their tissues.

And with that, I think I've found my new calling.

For all those sports fans...

Eventually, everything comes full circle.

In February of 2006, the Seahawks played the Steelers in Superbowl XXsomething-or-other. The only reason I know this is because I watched it. The only reason I watched it is because I married a Packer fan. A Packer fan who wrote a sports blog with a Seahawks fan. Both of them, oddly enough, named Steve. Which is where they came up with the blog name of SportsBlogSteves.com.

My mama had always told me "Your man will be into one thing above all others. Probably it will be a sport, I'm sorry to say. Join him in it. Wholeheartedly and with enthusiasm, join him. It will give strength to your marriage."

She was right.

Steve was a Green Bay Packers fan through and through. His words to me early on were "I'm a Packer fan. Deal with it."

So I did.

I asked him to teach me football. To not speak over my head, excluding me from actually learning by using a language I didn't know. To not yell at me if I talked over an important play, cause I wasn't doing it on purpose. To help me become a true fan.

And he did.

Getting TiVo helped immensely. Instead of talking over plays, we just rewound and watched over and again until I understood the play or rule or nuance. Eventually we used it to rewind and argue about plays before hearing what the refs called. He seemed proudest when I won the rewind arguments. We tried to catch up at commercials but in our household, we finished watching the game bout a half hour behind the rest of the world.

By the early spring of 2006, I was an avid Packer fan and pretty decent at watching football in general. I couldn't speak to coaches or players outside of the Pack but I knew what I was watching, knew the positions and rules and felt comfortable making comments in rooms full of men watching football. So when we sat down to watch the Seahawks face the Steelers, I was excited for our friend.

Imagine my surprise to see officiating so bad I had to wonder what mafioso had bought the outcome. My Steve wrote a post about the game and said this:

This wasn’t just one bad call, this was a consistent and deliberate agenda, a fraud perpetrated against the Seahawks by the officials. Every time Pittsburgh needed a call they got it. Every time Seattle began to move the ball, a call went against them. It was obvious and shameful.

Fast-forward to February 6, 2011. Steve died six months earlier and his team was headed to the Super Bowl. I hadn't even woken out of my widow-fog to realize what was happening until sometime in the playoffs, though I had been in front of a TV for every game. When I did finally waken enough to see what was going on, I shook. I wanted the Pack to go to the Super Bowl. I wanted them to win. It felt right and proper and fitting. Considering my husband had just died at 47 leaving me a widow at 36, proper and fitting had no place in my world. Hence, the nervousness.

There's a whole other post I could write, and have tried to write, about being a widow and watching my beloved's team make it to the Super Bowl the season after his death. Today what I'll say is... the Packers played the Steelers. The cheating team that had already stolen a Super Bowl from our friend up north.

And though I could barely watch the game, and the memories of that night are mostly fogged in, one stands out clear. A Steelers fan had made it into my house that night. And sitting in my dead husband's recliner she made a comment about an unfair call by the refs after having repeatedly screamed about taking Rodger's "out at the knees". To which I replied something along the lines of "it was a fair call (and it was), it's only fair turnabout after the last Super Bowl you cheaters showed up to play at, we don't dirty talk about intentionally hurting players in this house so watch your mouth, and get your scrawny ass out of my dead husband's chair before I actually hurt you."

Packers won the Super Bowl that night. Which felt right and proper and fitting for my dead husband. And brought a little joy to some Seahawks fans. But the circle wasn't complete. Not until this past Sunday when the Seahawks got a second chance to win the game they were supposed to win, should have won, eight years ago.

And while I'm excited and happy for our geographically challenged Seahawks friend, Steve. I feel a loss that my Stevie wasn't here to cheer and scream for his friend's team. The blogging they would have done! So I'm writing it for my Stevie. For our friend, Steve.

St. Ides, this is for you. We've come full circle now. Congrats.

Interview

Some tattoos have deep meaning. Read more, and hear @KikiMarcus share the story behind her memorial tattoo here. http://t.co/xl6dRuVr6T
— Brittany Keeperman (@BodyModChicago) February 4, 2014

Love Don't Die - The Fray

If I know one thing, that's true
It ain't what you say, it's what you do
And you don't say much, yeah, that's true
But I listen when you do

A thousand years go by
But love don't die

If I know one thing, that's true
It's that I'm never leaving you
And you don't say much, yeah, that's true
But I lose it when you do

Don't let them tell no lie
Love don't die

No matter where we go
Or even if we don't
And even if they try
They'll never take my body from your side
Love don't die

If there is one thing, that's true
It's not what I say, it's what I do
And I say too much, yeah, that's true
So just listen to what I do

A thousand years go by
But love don't die

No matter where we go
Or even if we don't
And even if they try
They'll never take my body from your side
Love don't die

She can break it up
She can burn it down
You can box it in
Bury it in the ground
You can close it off
And turn it away
Try to keep it down,
Six feet in the ground

But love don't die

No matter where we go
Or even if we don't
And even if they try
They'll never take my body from your side
Love don't die

No matter where we go
Or even if we don't
I’d like to watch them try
They'll never take my body from your side
Love don't die