Two months ago, I asked Steven what his dad looked like. With a big proud smile, he answered, "He looks just like me!" His love and pride for his parents was endless. There was nothing he would not have done for them.

I remember how much comfort and love he gave my sister and brother-in-law, who also suffers from lymphoma. He had a magical way with people, able to instantly connect and ease.

Unable to eat kim-chee with his suh-lung-tang in the hospital, Steven took a big whiff of the stinking cabbage, broke into a sweat, smiled, and was satisfied. Steven had the amazing ability to make the best of any situation, finding comfort in the smallest of things.

Bravely suffering through his fourth day of chemotherapy, he said his entire body felt toxic, but said he needed to mentally get even tougher because things could get worse. Steven was a fighter. There was no quit in him, no self-pity.

My mom taught me to think of three things good every time something bad happened. I think Steven could usually think of six or seven. He always moved forward with confidence, no whining, no bitching, and always that big comforting smile. I miss you Steven. I will always keep and share my memories of you, and through them, you will continue to give. Thank you for the wonderful years.

-Peter Kim

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