My lasting impression of Steven is of his joy in life - the pleasure I saw him take in each moment, every time I was with him.

I went on a trip with Steve Kim, his wife Morgan, their daughter Rae, and Steven to Mount Diablo this past autumn. We had a picnic looking out over the Bay and Steven and I climbed into a tree and talked - a drifting conversation about our work and dreams. It was an intimate conversation, and I loved how candid he was, how open, and curious and full of wonder at his life, about you, about his family. It set things right inside me - a feeling of happiness, of joy that another person's honest, authentic, and extraordinary generosity bring forth. It felt so good sitting up there in the tree - like kids - and I don't know, I just appreciated how present and engaged he was - then and every time I saw him, like half chuckling at the good fortune of life.

I suspect he's the same now - at the very least, that's how he exists in my memories and heart. In our conversation, he spoke of his deep love for you, and the marriage, and the plan to move. The grief must weigh heavy now, but I'll always remember the sense of lightness that Steven brought to his relationships - like he always had his sights on something in the beyond, a private knowledge of grace, of the lightness beyond the weight of experience, of something resembling peace, or grace, or a special source of mirth he was secretly communing with while fishing, or drinking too much, or talking about those things for which he felt such deep passion.

-Frank Marquardt

previous | next