Stevie B., Stevie Y., now Stevie H.

I never had a chance to go home during the former half of decade of 2000-2010. There were huge changes going on in my family at that time; my nieces and nephew were growing up, my grandparents passed away, and the circle of life continued with the coming of my newest and youngest nephew, Stevie. Granted, Stevie was born in 1999, but close enough.

I've always wondered why the name Stevie. Personally, I think it was a name Goh came up with. Coincidentally, or maybe not coincidentally, the Wings won the Stanley Cup in 1997 and in 1998, with Steve Yzerman being a major contributor, and the Conn Smyth winner in the Wings' 97-98 season. At that time, they started calling him Stevie Y. Not to be confused with Stevie B. Our own would now be Stevie H.

But I digress. During the summer of 2001 or so, I finally met Stevie. He had never seen me before, maybe except for pictures. Not surprisingly, he mistook me for Goh; Goh was the only male member of our family who could actually hold Stevie without him crying and thrashing about to get away. And so it was, the Ol' Switcharoo come to life, again. This time, preying on the new generation. It was funny looking at Stevie's expression. When he looked at me, he didn't start crying right away as he did with all other strangers; of course not, he thought I was Goh, his dad. But just watching his expression, I could tell he knew something wasn't right. Perhaps I seemed familiar in an odd sort of way. Whatever it was that was throwing him off, he couldn't place it and so he was uncertain whether he should start crying or not. He opted not to.

After a while, Stevie and I were buddies. That is until Goh walked in the door. Then it was over; my cover was blown and Stevie started crying. But it's okay because we ended up becoming good buddies, anyway.

The next year, I actually made it home, again during the summer. It was bloody hot that day, and I was down visiting Goh and his family. Knowing that Stevie was never let out of the house until maybe age 2, I took him outside in to the backyard to play. It was then when he discovered how fun it was to have a water-gun fight. And it was fair: Stevie had the super-soaker water gun, I had the water-hose. Needless to say, he got drenched but not because his uncle was giving him a shower with the water hose outside. It was because he had so much fun being outside with the water, he was rolling around on the ground on the wet concrete. I think he got sick and caught a cold a few days later, but Stevie's joy of being outside playing, even for an hour far out-weighed any cold. In the end, it was all worth it. His cold came and it went, but the memories will last a lifetime.