Stephan Doyle

By Bree James 12-31-07

In homes where Christmas trees still stand, there are always a few presents still waiting for their recipients to visit and claim them. As we prepare for New Year’s Eve, those of us waiting for Stephan to come and share his favorite holiday with us have conflicted feelings: Pick up Stephan’s present and put it away somewhere and take down the tree…or leave the tree, with too many lights on it as Stephan taught us to do, and let it stand until he comes home. Like yellow ribbons tied to trees and telephone poles, our trees are tied to our hearts with our hopes for Stephan’s safe return.

My mind tells me to start letting go…to accept we may never find him, may never know what happened the night of November 29th to take him from us. When I think that way, the terrifying scenarios come rushing in, shocking the whole of me into shaking with fear that our Stephan was harmed or hurt. But then my heart demands to be heard. People go missing, my heart says, and they show up, even years later, confused and looking older. They’ve had a breakdown or a trauma and have been living far from home, creating a new and bewildering life where they landed. Eventually someone recognizes them, or their minds snap back to reality, and the journey back to their real lives begins.

Oh, that my heart be the wiser! Even if we have to wait a very long time, how can we not wish and hope and imagine that he is somewhere safe, perhaps with his mind muddled or lacking memory? How can we accept that he is gone? Wouldn’t we feel it in our hearts if he had gone to the angels he communed with in his meditations? Is he with his brother Bill and his precious dog, Haili, both of whom he missed and mourned every single day? Or is he walking a street in some unknown town, unaware of the hearts and souls longing for news of him?

So many questions with no answers. But I cannot, will not let go. The vibrancy of Stephan’s beautiful heart and soul reach out to me and tell me he is alive and we will see him again. It is what he wants and needs…to come home and release himself and us from this surreal universe we inhabit in his absence.

This Christmas was so hard…making joy happen for my family and friends, trying to push Stephan and the mystery of his whereabouts into the background. On December 26th, I wanted the holiday gone, and stripped my house of decorations and wrapping supplies. I reached for the first ornament on the tree, but my hand would not clasp it. Instead, I bent and plugged in the light strand dangling at the back of this small but beautiful symbol of a season of hope and love.

My tree stands, its lights sparkling, the fragile, antique topper Stephan gave me years ago sending out a subtle but definite glow. There it may stay until we have word, or all the needles fall off, or until the promise of miracles is fulfilled.

Happy New Year to all…tomorrow it will be 2008, and we will have a new year in which to hope, search, discover and wait for our brother, partner, son and friend to come home to Sunol and replace the pain in our hearts with joy. And so we go on, as we must, as he would wish us to, loving one another and never giving up. Happy New Year, Stephan, my brother, my friend, wherever you are…please come home.