“I hope in the future … that I will make you happy in all ways.” That’s what Dad wrote at the end of of his note to Mom in her senior yearbook.
I read the note and I remembered once again how much he loved Mom, and how much she loved him in return. They were happy, when they could make each other happy. Dad seemed to take special pleasure in making Mom laugh, which wasn’t always easy, particularly if she was upset at him for something.
At 62 years old he acted much like I picture that high school student acting. He thought that a silly face or a goofy word could make everything OK. He would try to turn any mistake he made, or any moment of friction into a joke, and he often succeeded. He was a world class purveyor of Dad jokes. Whenever he’d meet someone new the topic of careers would inevitably come up. He would say, “I’m an entomologist.” Then he’d pause for the confused looks and continue, “If you don’t know what that is, don’t let it bug you.”
In short, he loved making everyone smile, but especially Mom. She, in turn, was 
supportive and caring. Their relationship was a great example of what love should be. They didn’t selfishly seek to gain for themeslves. They sought to give, and by giving, gained so much more.
I have the visitor’s sticker from when Lianne and I went to Portsmouth Naval Hospital on April 23rd, 2013. I think it was his 2nd trip to the hospital and the doctors still didn’t know what was wrong. They talked about the possibility of cancer, and they were getting more serious, but none of the tests were showing any problems. I remember one doctor who came in with a caring manner and asked, “How are you doing Mr. Stevenson? Are you dealing with any anxiety or stress?”
Dad was sitting up in the hospital bed, in a hospital gown, looking as normal as you can look in a flimsy robe that ties in the back. He shook his head, shrugged a little, and said, “No I’m doing fine, I’m just concerned for my wife.” Mom was sitting next to me by the door. He looked over at her, “I don’t want her to worry.” It was a simple statement, but the heartfelt way he said it made me concerned for Mom as well. Those weren’t empty words.
Sure, sometimes he spent too long in front of the computer, or he forgot about something Mom had asked him to do. No, he wasn’t perfect, but those apprehensive words perfectly expressed how he really felt. At his core, what made him tick, was his love for his wife and his family. He lived that love, over and over again. Giving advice, listening, or lending a helping hand, he knew how to show love for his family.
He was 18 years old when he wrote in Mom’s yearbook. I can tell by reading his words that he felt the same way then as he did in 2013. In fact, I’m sure his feelings only grew as the years passed, as did Mom’s. In their marriage, they wanted to make the other person happy. Can anything else really be called love?
Looking more closely at Mom’s yearbook, something struck me about his word choice. He didn’t write that he wanted to make Mom “happy always.” He wrote that he wanted to make her “happy in all ways.” I can attest to the fact that they weren’t “happy always.” There were tough times. There were arguments. There was sadness. There was stress. However, in the midst of that, down where it really counted, Beverly was truly and surely happy “in all ways.” Well done Robby.
