My beloved husband, my best friend

Steve was definately a character. One that had the same sick sense of humor like myself and made me like him even more. There are so many great and wonderful things I can tell you about this man. He made everyone he met always feel comfortable and easy to talk to. His humor, with my family, was surprising to them because they didn't think a white man could be so sick. That was an instant hit. The first time I took him to meet my family was for an Easter Sunday. The first thought in his mind was "What can I make to eat for them?" I helped him make sweedish meatballs and of course he made his famous chocolate chip cookies. Huge hit! After dinner he played guitar for them and sang a few songs they requested. Everyone was just like, he cooks, bakes, is funny as hell, plays guitar and sings! Definately a big hit with them all. Most importantly caught my heart.
I will never forget the long conversations we'd have all night long. We would compare stories of our childhood, our parents and siblings. Just genuine conversation and getting to know each other better. One of the best things about him that I loved was how he didn't care whether anyone liked him or not. (although I never heard anyone say they didn't) He woudn't change for anyone. His telling me that made me appreciate myself even more. I knew he really meant it. He fell for me and accepted me for who I was.
His job required him to travel to many states. He would tell me the best thing about the traveling was how he would try different foods and where the best ones were. His favorite was ironically called "Steves steak" in New Jersey.  Living in NH and not being able to go to Steves steak all the time was making him nuts especially when he craved it every other weekend. He'd buy steaks and tried very hard to make his own Steves steak. I gotta say, he did a great job always pretty tasty. That was Steve, always very creative in the kitchen. Way more than me. He would make even a simple plate so fancy and very yummy. 
His taste in music was very different from mine. I always looked forward to hearing him play his guitar and sing songs from the Beatles, Elvis, Pink Floyd, Steely Dan, the Who etc etc. If he forgot the words sometimes, he'd make up his own and we would just crack up laughing he was sick even with that. I'm typing this and laughing because I remember those great times. His beautiful smile and yes that wonderful unique laugh of his. 
I loved that I was also the 1st one to show him around Manhattan. We went to eat, drink, walk the Big Apple. He was amazed at all the types of different people, cultures, entertainment he had absored in one evening. Rather than go on a horse/carriage ride, he insisted I get on his back for a piggy back or even better he'd get on my. 
Our long trips on the road for work, or fun, were always great. I'd whip out the folder for him to learn spanish and hearing him try and pronounce some words were just the best. Our favorite pass time was taking turns on listening to music from the radio or picking a cd. Usually we'd sing our songs (him better than me of course) and when I sang he would purposely push the radio buttons  like crazy just so I wouldn't sing. I couldn't get mad because we would laugh about it. Sometimes he would get a call and forget that it was his turn to chose and I'd take his turn. (to get even) LOL, I think he knew because he would give me that sly look.
I have more chapters about Steve that I'll be able to add soon. For now, I hope you enjoy these.