It's so sad to me that a person as vibrantly alive as Steven was diminished to a folder in a drawer or an oil painting on a wall. I searched the old anniversary cards for more than just a signature, and go back to old emails I sent to see if I missed an answer, but no miracle there.
I remember reading a book, PS, I Love You, about a husband who knew he was dying an left a letter each month for a year to his wife. I'm disappointed Steven didn't think ahead at the emptiness of my life and leave something tucked away. Maybe someday I'll come across something.