I Looked for Steve to Say Good Night

I looked for Steve to say good night.
When I found him, I walked over to him, and he turned to face me.

Again, that double take.
Again, it wasn’t our father turning to face me,
It was my brother.
You see, my brother looks exactly like our dad,
How he moved and walked and talked.
You see, my brother, like our dad,
And unlike me, isn’t a talker.
So, I blurt out: “I’m so glad I’m here, I’m so glad I stayed at your house, it was such a great
party, it was wonderful to see so many people who love and admire you, I’m so proud that I’m
your big sister.”

Then I stopped because I noticed him looking down at me
Looking down at me with our father’s eyes and smile.
And I did something different:
I stopped talking and I looked up at him.

It was like our father entered his body
And expressed his love and admiration for me,
Without saying a word.

So, I stood there before him,
he looking down at me and me looking up at him.
And I took it all in.
I took into my body their love for me.

The day Steve celebrated his retirement from a job he loved,
Running into burning buildings to save lives.
Eleven years, to the day, that our dad died.

Then he left Steve’s body,
And it was his eyes that looked down at me.

-Christine Meyer

This poem is about my younger brother Steve Wombacher on the occasion of his retirement from
being a firefighter and paramedic in the summer of 2023. It describes a spiritual experience in
which the Lord allowed me to experience the love of both my brother and our deceased father. It
was so significant; I was moved to write a poem about it. I believe that God sometimes allows us
to grieve our loved ones in this way, much like believers have experiences of apparitions of the
saints, especially of Mary. I even shared this poem with my five siblings, and they loved it,
including Steve, who said it was an honor that I wrote about him in this way.