Stephen Steve P. McGrath

Tell me how I'm s'posed to breathe with NO AIR... (song by JORDAN SPARKS)

(by spouse, Rocky)

Stephen has been a part of me for half of my entire life, 27 years. I met Stephen March 1983, at a Disco in Wichita, KS (3 hour drive from Junction City home), while I was on a date with an acquaintance of his. During after-party breakfast in the club's adjoining restaurant, he was invited to join us. Unbeknown to my date during their chat, Stephen was flirting with me the whole time, playing with my leg under the table. Eventually, this led to him coming to J.C. (Junction City, over 5 hours by bus), EVERY weekend for the next 3 months, which is where he picked up my nickname, Rocky, given to me by Gramma Leone, the woman who practically raised me. (I never realized until after her death, when I was already a grown man, that she had been calling me Rocky all of those years. I had just always thought she had an unusual Italian-accented pronunciation for Ricky, which I, unable to roll my "R's", would then repeat what she said as 'Lorky!' And that is when Cousin Pauline, who lived with me at the time, affectionately continued our Gramma's legacy of calling me Rocky. Stephen got such a kick out of Pauline, the way she & I would banter back & forth, and how she would greet me when coming home, as if I was being announced to an audience, "Rocky!" And she always called Stephen "Kenny" because with his full beard & head of white hair at the time, he looked like Kenny Rogers). With only 3 months, as we already knew of my upcoming job transfer to AZ and my stubbornness to remain free and single, we soon said our final good-byes.

AZ turned out to be more desolate than I'd expected, so I began our long-distance, late-night, long, weekend phone calls when, oftentimes, we would both doze off with our phones cradled to our neck & ears, as if to be in each others' arms. Mind you, this was before cell phones & free long distance, so neither one of us could really afford this new luxury habit we had begun. With plans to quit my job & move to CA in Aug'84, I first flew back to Wichita, stayed with Stephen for several days, said good-bye AGAIN, & hopped that 5+ hr. bus ride home to J.C. After a couple of weeks back home, I headed down to Wichita one last time before moving out to CA, once again telling Stephen good-bye . . . It broke his heart.

To make this already long story short, so much for the CA single life! I was missing Stephen so much, so I thought I was seeing him every time I turned around, it seemed. It was unbearable so, in January 1985 he came to live with me, Rocky, followed by our babies Penny, Annie, Kramer, & Sasha (Cats). We lived under the same roof since, eventually allowed in 2008 to be legally joined 'til death, did us part...

- Rocky!

- (This next story gives you an idea of the affectionate & lighthearted bond Stephen had with his Mother, and was revealed to me a piece at a time through my years in CA with Stephen, as it was used on me, the unwitting pawn... And I loved every moment of it!):

Stephen often reminisced with fond memories of his childhood on the farm. He told stories about his mother, who he nicknamed Maisy (which is a whole 'nother story in itself). Now, as we all know, it's quite common to hear, somebody somewhere, say a wish out loud. Like, "I wish I hadn't...", "Oh i do wish we could...", or "If only I had a ...", etc. And, as Stephen learned early on, was one sentiment that did not go unnoticed by Maisy. Every time he slipped and said "I wish...", Maisy would chime, "If wishes were horses, all beggars could ride!" This could be only slightly annoying, but mostly fun when she would catch the others. And therein, began the game. "It's on!" He just couldn't wait for the day to catch her at her own game. And, as luck would have it, he overheard those magic words one day, fall from Maisy's lips and ever so proudly burst forth, "If wishes were horses, all beggars could ride!" Oh, he thought he was hot stuff and was so tickled, giggling away, when he was unexpectedly stunned by Maisy's reply, "And if the dog hadn't stopped to pee, he'd have caught the rabbit!" OMG, there's just no winning, this lady's way too clever and is always going to have the last word...or was she? He waits and listens, as time goes by, while many others, thinking they're also clever enough to outsmart mom with this newfound challenge, one by one, get stung with her clever new dog and rabbit zinger. Of course, he laughs along with Maisy at the others' hopeful attempts to snag her in her own net and fail, but he's all wound up now. He ponders, "this is going to be a piece of cake. You're going down, old woman." so came that one fateful day, a day he had planned on, this time, having the last word, he purposely pulled her into his soon-to-be-triumphant little web of wit. "Oh Maisy, I wish we had a big ole batch of home-made ice cream right now, like we used to do, don't you?" And Maisy as always, right on cue, "If wishes were horses, all beggars could ride!" Stephen can barely maintain his composure as he delivers the final blow, "And if the dog hadn't stopped to pee, he'd have caught the rabbit!" "Oh, sweet victory at last , I've done it. I have finally gotten in the last word," he thought, feeling superior while he grinned & snickered out loud. Maisy stood up almost instantly, and seemingly defeated, turned to refill her coffee cup. Then, like a Dodge City gunslinger of old, turned back and quipped, "Yeah? Well , If you hadn't bent down to lick it up, you might've seen the race!" There, he knew he had just experienced the art of the ultimate comeback. Who knows, there may have been several more lines to this one, as Stephen either never pursued the rest, or simply forgot them.

(by sister, Mickey Ray)

Stephen was the youngest boy in the family and was in college when my father got ill in the early 70's, Stephen quit college (he intended to be a teacher) and came home to help Mom take care of his father. As a little guy, Mom would laugh when she couldn't find him in the small Kansas town we lived in, because Stephen had friends in the neighborhood to visit--there was a lady down the alley who made homemade starter bread, she and Stephen were always up to something in the kitchen, that was his introduction to learning to cook and he loved to cook. Stephen was a gentle guy who loved history, enjoyed fishing on the ranch and was good at everything he tried. Stephen liked to visit Kansas to see his mother, but really his life and heart were in California with his loving and devoted partner, Rocky, and their 4 cats. I would see him come home for even five days and he was ready to leave before the time was up, his real connection was in California. Unusual, he could quilt and did, and loved his cats. He talked about them like they were friends, if you wouldn't have known they were pets, well to Stephen they were good friends. Always too tender hearted, Stephen had lots of attachment where it mattered and tended to be kind beyond the norm so people felt cared about. He could laugh at himself and always liked to laugh and make fun of things. Stephen was from a farm family but didn't want to farm, he liked people, farming was too isolated for Stephen.

1) FLOWERS are welcome

2) In lieu of flowers, please make donations to the FARRAH FAWCETT FOUNDATION, PO Box 6478, Beverly Hills, CA 90212