My Daughter’s Godmother was, well, God-like
Really sad day, today. My daughter Lane’s Godmother is being laid to rest, sadly, at the young age of 56. She was also one of the closest friends in my wife Betsy’s life – all her life, from snotty-nosed Greek girls at church to grown adults with kids.
Her name was, IS, Stephanie Stephan. Steph got that crazy “double Steph” name when she married her wonderfully pleasant and smart husband, Karl Stephan, about three decades ago – just like me and Betsy. The couple have two wonderful young men, Chris and Peter, as sons, although I think at least one went to the University of Michigan, so I refuse to acknowledge him. (Just kidding.)
Hey gentlemen, all three of you (plus Steph’s Dad, John) are grieving beyond belief today. I am happy that my Betsy is there today. I know the tears will flow beyond what the mightiest river could ever produce. Know this: your wife, your Mom, your daughter was a princess her whole life. I am certain that Steph’s Mom, Stella, greeted her in heaven with joy, yet was saddened her little girl arrived far ahead of schedule.
Karl, Peter, Chris and Mr. Pappas: if you ever need anything from Bets and me, just call. We loved Steph almost as much as you did. Check that: just as much. Just a sort of different way.