Our Mark week went on forever.  This year, Father's Day came after Mark's funeral day.....and for some reason it just made it harder.

I spent the week in a very depressed state....angry at so many things, so many people....without any just cause.  I kept to myself, didn't do much of anything. Angry that Don wasn't working, angry that I was. Angry that it rained. Angry that it didn't and my flowers were suffering.  Just angry.

Things are better now that Father's Day is over.  We had breakfast with John, Tabby and the boys.  Then we escaped the heat.  Don watched movies and I went to the pool.  This evening, I actually feel a little better.  I have not had the energy to even answer emails, or write here.

That is so stupid, because this is where I unleash a lot of stuff.....it would have been good for me.

I appreciate the emails that Mandy kept sending me...encouraging me to get through the week.  Helping me to find the bright spots.  Telling me that I would write here as soon as things lifted. 

In essence....she was my cheerleader....not just Mark's.

Don did ok today, it being the 3rd Father's Day without Mark.  He loved being with John and his family.  He got to spend the afternoon watching TV.  He had a wonderful birthday.  He even went back to work.

We spent the afternoon yesterday at Debe Dodo's celebrating Cassie's graduation.  Afterwards, we stopped by Mike and Deb's and sat on their front porch, telling Mark stories.  For us...that was one of the best things over the past week.  An hour or so of Mark stories.

Then, this morning, I received an email from my favorite cousin, Susan.  Even though she and Mark never met...they had a very strong connection to one another.  I remember a Saturday morning when the mail came...a couple of days before he died....and the only letter he wanted to open and read was the one from Susan.  I know that it was the last piece of mail he ever read.

Susan is married to Anthony Rivera.  Anthony is a popular country western singer in California.  His group, "Raining Horseshoes" plays a song called "Cowboy Up & Party Down."  Anthony frequently tells Mark's story and dedicates this song to him.  It really means a lot to Don and me and whenever I turn on my computer sound...I play it.  When you listen to it....you can just feel Mark.
To hear a sampling of it go to:  http://raininghorseshoes.com/music.php  Browse through the website, and you will see Mark's picture.

I was touched by a story she shared with me.  It came at the best time, at the end of a difficult week.  It came when I understood my fears, my anger was because I want so much that Mark is not forgotten.  I want people to miss him.  I want his death not to be dwelled upon...I want us to remember Mark's life.  It helps me to know that others are talking about him to people I have never met.  Here is the story Susan shared with me:

We wore our "Mark" bracelets the entire week prior to the anniversary of his passing into Heaven.  Little Madison talks to Mark every time she is here and looks up at his pictures (I keep three) on the frig and just says hi to him and asks him to take care of Tanner and Jesus.  It is so touching when she does that.  She wore his bracelet to school her last week of Kindergarten and on Share Day, she shared your son Mark's story only the way Madison can tell it.

She said,  as I was there,..

This is a picture of Mark DeWalle, you see he is my Nana's cousin's son.  And he lives in Heaven now with Tanner (our beloved Golden Retriever) and Jesus.  He gets to talk to God everyday and they tell each other special secrets.  He can see me but he does not know me.  He was very special and even though he went to Heaven before he should have, ...he made so many people happy when he lived here on the Earth.  His mommy and daddy are sad cause it will be two years next week when he flew up to Heaven.  I wear this bracelet to remember him and let him know he will never be forgotten and that one of these days a long long time from now I will get old and go to Heaven and I will find Mark and Tanner.

Then she said,  God bluss Mark (yes bluss instead of bless) 

It was priceless and then all the little kids came up to see his picture swinging the golf club and the big one I have of him in his football jersey.   She told everyone he hit a ball out into the ocean to try to send his cancer illness far out and away, but it did not work.

 Anthony also dedicated a song to Mark last weekend and told the event he was playing at about Mark.  He said many people asked him about him after the show and thanked him for telling Mark's story because they were going through a similar situation.  Mark's story will forever impact someone somewhere.
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I told Debbie yesterday, while telling Mark stories, that I want Mark stories....all of them.  We decided, that Mark stories will continue to dribble in....I might go months before I hear a new one.  They are not to come all at once, but a little at a time to last my lifetime.

so, it is time to "Cowboy Up & Party Down".....if you have any story...no matter how little, how insignificant it may be....please share it with me.  It absolutely makes my day and makes me feel that Mark isn't forgotten.

Thank you to everyone who made an effort to come to Dragonfly Night.   It certainly helped fill the void Don and I have felt during the past couple of weeks.

The night was beautiful.  We have had gatherings before......and in all the years it only rained one 4th of July.  Somewhere I have pictures of Jim Brockmeyer, Ken Schnurbusch and Don standing under umbrellas....with rain on top and smoke underneath....over the BBQ grill.  

I felt like I was very disconnected that evening.  Always on the verge of tears the whole time.  I don't feel I spent enough time talking with the people and family that was there. 

I do know that the 40 or so people who were there, remembered Mark.  That is what I wanted more than anything....people to remember Mark. 

Since that night, and throughout the days and nights that followed, I have been emotionally drained.  It is an effort to do almost anything.  Don and I did do something we had never done on Sunday night....we "camped" out in the tent we put up for Danny and Michael in our backyard.  We actually made it until 2am when it started raining.  Michael said, "I don't think this is camping....I think it is just sleeping in the backyard."  So much for an adventurous granny.

Meghan and Racheal brought balloons Friday morning for the boys to once again let go.  They knew exactly what they were for, and when they first came into the house, actually started looking for them.  I had put them where they were two years ago.....in Mark's room.  They each told me what this night meant, what to do with the balloons (put kisses on them) and we took them out and they let them go.  It is so special that two of Mark's good friends have started a tradition that we will do every year, and that Mark's nephews have a good understanding of what it is about.

I began writing my thank you notes this morning.  Even that is taking me a lot of energy.  I wrote the first one to someone I don't even know...don't even know the name.  All I have is an address.  I received in the mail on Friday a package from Memphis.  Other than a few of Mark's former work friends, I know of no one in Memphis.  I know Mark left some friends there and all I have are first names.  Someone, there, however, remembers Mark.  In the package was a beautiful dragonfly windchime and some dragonfly clips.  They are all on the gazebo.  I need to take a picture but we have the tent drying out in there right now from the rain.  Hopefully, tomorrow, when I get home from work, I can take a picture and post them.   It was very special, very spiritual, getting that package from Memphis.  Mark hasn't been there in two years.  Someone, someone who is very kind, remembers him.

This note isn't making much sense, other than conveying the lack of energy, lack of drive that I feel this week.  It isn't too unlike it was two years ago....the days following Mark's funeral.  So much to say, and I am not equipped with the vocabulary to say it.   Perhaps, after a night back at work, I can put things into perspective a little bit better.

Until tomorrow, then, thank you again for helping us through this.

Tonight is Dragonfly Night.   If you have ten minutes, four hours, or whatever....please come by.

Mass will be at St. Francis at 4:30 Saturday.  I really wanted the 8am ....that is the time Mark left us....but it was taken.  He never  liked to get up early in the morning and would probably prefer the 4:30pm one anyway.

It is hard to describe what this is supposed to be.  It isn't a vigil...but a remembrance of one.  It isn't a party....but sort of because we have such joy and warmth in our hearts given to us by everyone who was there during Mark's life, his illness, his death.....and these awful days since he left us.  Without our friends and family, Don and I.....I just don't know where we would be.

We will be ready anytime after six....but if you can't make it then, please stop by before.  We just need some hugs to get us through the next year.

The other day I went to Mass at St. Francis.  I go sometimes during the week.  This time I made a special effort because I noticed in the bulletin that it was for Steven Lillicrap.  Steven also attended St. Francis.  He was killed in a terrible jobsite accident a few months ago at the new Edward Jones building.   I met his mom, Diane, at our last Angel Mom meeting.  Like the other ladies there....Diane is now my sister.

Mark and Steven never knew each other here.....but I know they are friends now.  Just the fact that his mom and me have connected yet adding to that.....they are buried very near one another at Park Lawn.  Diane stops at Mark's grave.....and Don and I stop at Steven's.

I was reminded following the Mass that Don and I have been granted a great gift.  We were given the chance to talk to Mark about his life, his faith and more importantly...we were able to tell him goodbye.  There are days that I struggle so much with not having him here.  It seems I have used every chance to include him in what I am doing.  I put on a summer dress the other day and chose that one specifically because I knew, had Mark been here, he would have called it my "damn muumuu".  Just my way of irking him some.

I am reminded then, of being able to have a Dragonfly Night and feel that the last night with Mark was so very special.  I remember so much Mike Mahler and Scott Houska coming over.....and talking Mark into having the tube put back in his belly.  That simple gesture, that simple support they gave their teammate/friend/brother, made Mark's last hours so much less discomforting.  He answered "Never" when I said to him that he wouldn't let his teammates down.

I think often of Mark calling back over his brother and sister in law.  I remember Mark asking John to pray with him.  I don't think he was praying for himself, but for his brother.  I honestly believe it was Mark's way of letting John know of his beliefs.  Their last interactions were in prayer.....that is a strong statement to leave a brother with forever.

I remember his cousin Jeff being there all night.  His grandmother, his Aunt Katie. 

I remember his friend/roommate Scott Pope staying up all night, taking naps on my living room couch (the only person I have allowed to sleep on that couch!!) and then going to work in the morning.

And, I remember Coach Heyde coming late at night....answering a simple question that allowed Mark to die...contented.  He wanted to be sure Coach wasn't "disappointed" in him.

The very last words Mark said to us..."It's ok Mom, I am ready to go."

I am reminded that my sisters, Gwen, Christine, Donna, and now Diane, never ever had the chance to have memories like this.  They never got those last few moments, those last hugs.

So even though, as peculiar as it may seem to have a "party"....no, more like an "event"....of this type, I am blessed.

It is more of night to remember those who supported us and continue to support us.  It gives Don and I some degree of peace to have people in Mark's life surround us again...even if they cannot come but remember.

Today I dismantled our bedroom.  Don and I thought it was high time to take the bed apart and get the carpeting cleaned.  He told me earlier in the week that it was "horrible" under there.  It was not really that bad.  I did, however, find things other than some dog hair and dust.

A Lego box and a rolled up newspaper along with a few other things.  Perhaps I should say I very special Lego box and a very special newspaper.

Mark, like any other little boy, would threaten to run away from home.  When he was six years old, he became very disillusioned with all of us and made the decision it was time to leave.  Apparently we were being too lenient with John, or Mark just was plain mad at something.  He went to his room and when he came out, he was leaving.

In his hand was the only thing he could find that would work as a suitcase:  his red Lego box.  He announced he was running away and out the door he went.  I watched him walk up the street, and waited for him to turn around.   It was long before he did, how ever long it took him to walk around the block and feel that his mom must really miss him by now.

He came in the door, we resolved our differences, and away he went out to play.  I took the Lego box and went into his room.....Legos everywhere that he had dumped to clear out his Lego box.  I opened up the Lego box to begin putting the Legos back (yes, I know I should have had him do it), and in his Lego box were some baseball cards.....and one change of underwear.  All I could do was laugh.

I found something else to put his Legos in and took this red Lego box and put it under our bed.  From time to time, over the years, I would pull it out and tease him about it.  I recall when he went to his last golf trip in Ohio, I asked him if he wanted to use it to pack his things.  "No, I am not running away," was his response.

For 20 years now, I have moved this Lego box to a few other locations, but it always ultimately finds its way under our bed.  I have talked about it, but long forgot that it has been under that bed since Mark died.

That is until today.

The baseball cards are still in there.  I don't know what ever happened to the pair of little underwear.  I just know that if Mark had not come home that day, that at least he would have had a fresh pair he could change into.

It made me smile, and instead of the tears flowing like usual when I write here, I am still smiling.

The other item.....a rolled up newspaper that is kept rolled with hospital tape, is the other thing that made me smile. 

One day, during Mark's last time in the hospital, I was reading the paper.  Mark kept asking me for the paper and I told him I wasn't finished with it.  "Give it to me, " he kept saying,  I finally did, and he sat there in his bed, rolled it up and put tape around it to keep it together.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Come here and I will show you," he said.  When I did, he hit me in the head with it.

"Now I have something to get your attention when I need it, or when you are snoring."  And that, he did.  I would get bopped in the head whenever I said something, or did something, or just for the hell of it.   He got a kick out of hitting one his nurses, Pearl, in the head with it.

It is one of my most favorite possessions. 

Anyone that would see it, would think it was something that needed to be put out in the trash.  John and Don know that it is never to be thrown away.  Someday, when the day comes for me to go see Mark, it is the one possession, one keepsake, that I want put in my coffin.  I am going to need it.

I plan on bopping Mark on the head with him the minute I see him.....for leaving home for good this time.

There has been a running joke for the past 30 years with my brother, Mike.  At any given time, and at the right time, Mike will tell me he needs me to do something and I of course, am willing to help or do whatever he wants.  He always gets me.  It is always "Go look under your bed."

Now I know why......I keep memories under there too.

I still am not sure how you invite people to something I don't even know what to call....a celebration? an open house?  a vigil?  What is it?   All I know is that Don and I will be relaxing in our back yard, enjoying our "Mark garden" and remembering the magic that was.

His friends and family are the secret of Mark's last days with us.  We could sit inside and cry....but prefer to try and recapture some of the magic of that night.  We will have snacks, drinks, and the love in our heart for whomever is able to come by.

If you know you will be able to stop by....let me know on the guestbook or email me.  If you think you might....let me know.....if you can't .....just know that we will be remembering you.

Again...thank you to all who were a part of Mark's life.  I think of you every single day, and sometimes smile, sometimes cry.

From Debbie A.

 

It’s June…and as Mark’s family/relatives/friends recall these few weeks 2 years ago – Mark is letting us know he’s okay. 

 

Let’s see..from the message board,

Mark walked the streets of Memphis on Beale Street to say hi to Jeff,

was on stage with Mick through his rosary and St. Mark medal,

let Barb  know in a vivid dream that he has been to the jungles and beaches,

(that was our favorite one!)

and said a quick hello to Lisa and Amanda at Wrigley field for a Cubs game.

 

His heart was in Columbia with Barb/Don..

And then yesterday he was at the Kirkwood train station to say hi to Mike H.

.

Here’s the story:

 

I have been thinking about somehow placing a soft photo of Mark and Dad in an upper part of a photo or something so that they would be noted that they were thought about on Mick’s grad day...but I thought that would be too hokey...  
 
Mike A. came by and gave me his photos to give to Mick..
They were not very good - most were blurry and too bright from glaring sun. 
Nothing to pass on.....or so I thought... 
 
But there is one - and only one that turned out very clear..
It is the last one he took.
He said he turned...saw Barb and Don walking back to their car..
and for some reason -
...he said something was telling him to hurry and take a photo –

so he did...
 
Well. I know now why he felt he needed to take it –

Mark loved to see sky writers and would always stop and watch them..
Look close at the top right part of the photo – I almost missed it..
Mark is skywriting over them  - and the area - saying hello.
 
Yep - Mark's heart is in a photo. 

(see photo in link on left)

 

Next part of the story – we were at the Kirkwood Train Station yesterday –
walked around – got ice cream.
When I was asking Mike A. if I could place the photo and story on this web page , Mike H. noted up in the clear blue sky… a lone skywriter went right over us with one single huge line- then flew out of sight. 
Mike A said, “Well, I guess Mark is telling me to say yes!”

 

To all - Keep Mark in your hearts these next weeks – ask him to say hello to you in some way - and then post on message board how he did it so Barb/Don/John can read it.

The ones so far have warmed their hearts more than you’ll ever know...

I am trying to get myself on a routine schedule since I will be off for about six days.  Slept away most of today, but went to bed anyway at a somewhat reasonable hour.  Now, I am awake but probably not fully.....just needed to get to the computer before it fades away completely.

I woke up not because of anything else but feeling that "mom anxiety" when trying to reconcile with Mark over something he insists on doing, even though I may feel it is not in his best interest.  Was thinking upon awakening "He must me crazy.  Doesn't he know this isn't remotely reasonable?  I just know that this is going to end up costing me money to bail him out and he doesn't even seem concerned."

Then, it hit me.  Mark has died.  For a very real couple of minutes, that concept wasn't even in the picture.

I finally had another dream.  It has been months. 

For some reason I was driving around looking for him.  I rounded a hairpin turn on an open road...all fields.  At this hairpin turn were several young men.  Sitting, leaning against a backpack, was Mark.

I saw him, stopped and said that I had been looking for him.  He told me he had been on his way, but was going to leave again.  When I asked him where he had been...he told me that he had been on an adventure....going through the jungles and the coastal areas of what I think was Costa Rica or Mexico.  He was dressed in shorts, a tshirt, and had a full head of hair.

He was taller, stronger, tanned and looked wonderful.

He said he had "hooked up" with some friends of Aaron Poe's and they had been on this excursion for awhile and had invited him along.  He was going back.  It was fantastic.

When I asked him why he didn't call me and let me know where he was....he told me he hadn't had a cell phone in a long time.  "Besides, you know how bad the phone bill was when I called you from Cancun when I was there."  It was....an enormous phone bill.  Something like $250 in long distance.  He had kept calling me trying to set up a time that Juliet could come over and receive a collect call from her...then, calling me back to find out if she was coming....a mom just doesn't refuse a collect call from their teenager in Cancun.  I was so mad at him when the phone bill had come showing all those calls.

So, his response to not calling made sense.  At no point during this dream did it ever come in to play that he had died.  Every other dream...I knew during the dream that he had died.  Not this one.

I tried to reason with him, telling him that this wasn't a good idea.  He needed to come back home, go back to work or go to school.  He told me he was fine, and that I should talk to Patti O'Toole...my friend from work.   Mark always liked Patti a lot and apparently still does.

"Talk to Patti O'Toole.  She will set you straight and tell you this will be fine."  He told me he didn't need anything, any money, nothing.   And....of he went.

I woke up, just feeling so frustrated with him.  Then it hit me....he had died.  And for now, during his eternity, he was spending time with some people who knew 'Aaron Poe and they were hiking through the jungles and enjoying the beautiful beaches.  No threats, no stresses, just a good adventure.

I did call Patti....and exactly as Mark had said.....her comment was "I would be all over it."

I hope he doesn't stay in the jungles long, I hope he comes back to my dreams very soon.  The stresses I was feeling before I slept seem to have gone away. 

Mark is on an adventure, and that is what I am going to try and concentrate on over the next couple of days.

Two years ago, at this moment, I was making a phone call.  A phone call that all of us knew would be made eventually, and yet one that none of us ever wanted.  A dreaded phone call.  Dreaded news.  Yet in this same phone call, all of our fears, all of our anxieties, were finally dissolved.

It was the phone call to John....and also the hardest one I ever made to Don....that Mark had something, at this late point in the evening to tell them.  He wanted his Dad, he wanted his brother, and whatever had to be done to get his sister-in-law to the hospital...he wanted her as well.

"I am done..no more scans, no more chemo.  Someone maybe can beat this cancer, but it isn't me."

He waited all day to tell us.  He had visitors, he had a very good visit with his beloved Aunt Debbie.  I toyed with the idea of going home and letting someone else stay with him....but no, "that's not a good idea."  He had been moody all day and at times I felt he was angry at me.  Had I said or done something that made him think "she's such a dork."  He spent a great deal of the afternoon with his Grandma...who in his eyes was nothing short of a saint.  He waited until everyone was gone.  He waited until I suggested maybe having Kris Heyde come stay with us that night.  He agreed to everything...yet told me nothing.  Said very little...that is until late in the evening.

"I am done...."

I suppose that I should remember his first words, his first thoughts, his first suggestions at something, his first want.....

But it is his last decision that I go over and over every single day since Mark left us.  And as much as it hurts, and even though I have heard it over and over in my head a million times since then, it still makes my heart stop, still makes me cry.

I knew he was right.  We all knew he was right.  Don, John, Tabby and even Grandma knew all weekend that our time was short with Mark.  How were we ever going to handle telling him what the doctors had been telling us all weekend?  I know for a fact that his doctors, too, were struggling with presenting to Mark the news there was nothing more that could be done.  They elected to wait until the day after Memorial Day...when there would be enough support staff to help him.  The resident in charge of Mark's case, cried when he talked to Don and me in the hall earlier that day.

He never got a chance to be there when the decision was finally made, and for two reasons.  Mark made the decision himself on Memorial Day 2007, in the evening after this resident went home.  The next day, Dr. Tan told me that this particular resident had called in sick.  Maybe he wasn't as strong as Mark was and couldn't face it.  I know, however, that the resident probably has never forgotten Mark.

So, all weekend, I kept the memories, thoughts of this day to myself.  Felt out of sorts, like nothing was right.  A stupid holiday weekend.  I have some things stressing me right now...things everyone is feeling during this bad economy.  No money to get away for a bit.  All I have in the bank is time...downtime...to go over and over that weekend two years ago.

And perhaps, I am the only feeling this way.  I talked to Don...we both have been feeling the same way.  It is the start of the last two weeks.  Everyday there will be something....this is the anniversary of when John rode home with Mark and when Mark walked into the house after thanking the paramedics who brought him home.   The vast amount of visitors that came this day...much to Mark's delight.  Meghan and Racheal bringing all those balloons.  Mike and Debbie coming over and bringing shrimp and Mike sitting at the table crying "Dad would never be able to handle this."  So many memories...all starting with the conversation Mark had with us that night.

I know that others have moved on.  I know that no one outside of the family remembers what day it was Mark decided to do things his way.  It did give me comfort that John told me this afternoon that Tabby had said this was such a hard weekend for us.  She has no idea how that gave Don and me comfort.

No mention. No emails checking on Mark.  I didn't even know what I wanted to write here tonight...but knowing that it was to be something.....this day is important to me.  It is the day my sweet son said "Mom, I am going to see the face of God."  After he cried with his brother, his dad, his sister-in-law, he never cried again.  That in itself should give me peace.....but to be honest...many days, many times, it is just not enough.

I want another conversation with him.

So, this evening, Don fell asleep.  It has been a bad rheumatoid weekend for him.  I watched mindless TV and decided to finally go check out the computer.  There, in my email, was a message from my roommate, my BFF before there ever was such a thing, my sister-in-law and Mark's beloved Aunt Debbie.  A short simple email with funny pictures but a strong message.  "Barb.
Thinking of you today - knowing it was the day Mark made his tough decision..Sending you a hug..

Having others remember when there is so much new, current, living things to focus on...... the importance of this has no words to describe to a still...forever grieving mom.

I took my babies to St. Francis School Picnic Saturday.  Don used to organize and run this picnic and we have such good memories of our days there.  I saw several people I knew....but interestingly enough, people that for me are Mark people.  The first person I saw that I knew was Angie Kopp.  Her Charlie and Mark were on the famous basketball team together.  Whenever I watch tapes of a particular game and Charlie stood his ground, got knocked down, and created an offensive foul for the other team that really turned the game around, I still smile and laugh.  Angie has had a knack for sending me cards, messages during times when I always seem to need a pick me up.  Seeing her there, the first person I spoke to, I know was a Heavenly intervention.  

It really wasn't easy being up at the picnic without remembering Mark and John running around all day.  They were literally there all day long...from 7am until very late at night.  Father Edwin would start slipping them extra ride tickets in the afternoon, when my money an patience had worn out.  It was fun explaining to Tabby what a pull tab was.  It was fun seeing the babies ride the rides.  It was fun trying to coax Michael onto the Scrambler...and finally getting him to ride it with Granny and declaring the most fun ever.

Still, there were ghosts there.  Not just of memories of Mark, but also of a little John DeWalle.  A John who wouldn't ride anything that lifted off the ground.  A John that ran around all day with Jeff Bell and his other friends.  This year, I took pictures of John once again at the SFA picnic...only this time it was of him standing near the Scrambler holding a tiny Joey.

So, I tried to make new memories this weekend.  Tried to replace the ones of two years ago that will haunt me until the day I die.  Tried to force it.  It cannot be done.  New memories, new smiles cannot be forced.  They only, for me, come from little DeWalle boys.....and until this weekend, Memorial Day for me is about little DeWalle boys at SFA picnics, and one that grew up and made a decision that no one else on Earth was strong enough to make.

Nothing can ever make it better.....or so I thought.

Tabby, the other day, was explaining to Michael that he only had two more days left of school...one Tuesday, one Wednesday.  He asked about Monday, and she told him there was no school that day because it was Memorial Day.

"I am going to just love that day," is what Michael responded.   "Why?" said Tabby.

"Because we get to eat Oreos all day!!!"

So this evening, when we went over to John and Tabby's for dinner, we took dessert:  Oreo ice cream and Oreo cookies.

Even though the day has painful, yet spiritual memories for us.  Even though I think that others may not remember the way we do......it was , in fact, an Oreo Day.
 

It has been a weekend of accomplishments for our family.

John completed his first Master's degree.  He got his cap, his gown, and we all looked forward to getting pictures of him in his garb with his family.  John and Tabitha decided last week that the time element involved with a graduation ceremony, and having three young children, might just not meld right.  So, sometime this week, John is going to put on his cap and gown, and we will all take pictures in his backyard. 

Don and I are so proud of John.  I know I have mentioned it numerous times here before, but it all is worth repeating.

Over the past six or seven years, I have always felt that John has been under more stress than anyone has a right to even exaggerate about.   Five years ago he finished college, and was doing what most college graduates do....looking for and hoping for a job.  Then, that fall, the news of his brother's cancer hit him.

When we found out that Mark had cancer, it was John who had to take over for Don and me emotionally.  I remember that John rode home from the doctor's office with Mark, and Don and me went home in another car.

We all went to the doctor together.  John and Don took off work.  As a family, we were going to face whatever was being handed to us together from the beginning.  I remember that I felt going into the office, that people were going to think we were over reacting...that there was nothing wrong.  I don't recall too much of that office visit, only that I didn't handle it very well.  I was upset with the diagnosis, upset that Mark wanted to delay the surgery for two weeks.  He wanted time to talk to his friends.....always his immediate priority after his brother and parents.  Don and I cried all the way home.  When we got into the house, John was sitting alone at the kitchen table.  We asked where Mark was.

"He went to work." was all John said.

We asked John how Mark was doing....(he could see we were a wreck)...and John simply stated

"He's fine.  What is upsetting him is your reaction."

That was the start of the line that John, Don and myself have repeated to each other over the years..."I didn't get the book on how to react when told my son had cancer."

From that day forward, John has been our source of strength, our sounding board, and the person who has supported us emotionally throughtout the past five years.

And during these past five years, John has married, bought a house, adjusted to his career, has become a father to three boys, coached football, renovated his house, and tried to provide for his family in this bad economy on a school teacher's salary.  He works two to three jobs at a time...putting in 10 and 12 hour days teaching then working weekends at times as well.  There are challenges and  adjustment periods for any young father, yet,  also handed to him was the enormous task of learning his only sibling, the person who idolized him more than anyone ever, was dying.  He not only took care of himself....but was there at any time of night or day for his brother.

As the only sibling Mark had....John also took over for Don and me.  I don't know what we would have done...or do....without him.  He guided us through Mark's illness and death.  He has had to make decisions regarding final plans for his brother.....and assist Don and I throughout the journey.

He has had to  learn and adjust to life without having his brother there to share his triumphs.

On top of that, he earned his Masters.

I believe John is planning on continuing his education.  I know, in my heart, that John has experienced more than anyone should have experienced in five years.....most of it good....and certainly some heartaches along the way.

He never complains.  He never asks for more.  He only wants the best for his beautiful Tabby and his boys.

Family comes first...always has...and always will for John.  As Don and I wrote to him in his graduation card from us...he learned that in kindergarten.

I am so honored to be his mother and so humbled by his faith, his love for his family, and his work ethic.  He has accomplished so much.

Then, today, our family celebrated yet another accomplishment.

Mick graduated from law school today.

If there ever was a duo...it was Mick and Mark.  There are so many interwoven stories about the two of them.  They were born three weeks a part.  I like to say that my mom was ok with Mark being a boy.....she already had two, and one more was ok.  She has never said, but I know that in her heart, she was hoping Mike and Debbie's baby would be a girl.  She had to wait through three more grandsons after Mark before she ever started buying things in pink.

We have on video Mick and Mark meeting each other for the first time.  I am not sure if it was Thanksgiving or Christmas of 1982, but Debbie and me waited until my father had the video camera going, then we we both put our beautiful babies face to face in front of the camera.

Mark was his glorious head of black hair, and bald Mick.  At that time, we were calling Mick "Andrew" or even "Andy".  I don't know when Mike and Deb started the Mickey thing.  It is from Mick's middle name, Michael, and is what my dad would lovingly call Mike at times..."Mickelberry".

The relationship between the two remained inseparable.  They played ball together, got in trouble together.  I should at some point, try to record ever story about the two I can come up with.  Some times, I would send Mark to Mike and Debbie's and she would keep him for days at a time...then send Mick back over to me. 

Mick was the first cousin to know that Mark had cancer.  He was also the last to know that Mark made the decision he was "done" and was going home on hospice.   I made that call to Mick, and as I expected, Mick was very emotional and inconsolable.  Mark took the phone from me and said over and over again, "It's ok, Mick, it's all good, man, it's all good."

Mark was so proud of Mick's plan to go to law school.  I am not sure but I think that in the back of his head, he figured that he would need a lawyer some day and who would be better than his cousin and partner in crime.

When I knew that Mick's graduation was coming, it was with some degree of dread for me.  Not that I didn't want this accomplishment for Mick, not that I didn't want to watch my brother and sister in law witness with pride their son graduating from the same law school that Mike went to.....it's just that it wasn't right Mark wasn't here.

I think that is why Easter with the cousins laughing, joking, trying to out do one another bothered me so bad.  Mark was supposed to be there.  Mark was supposed to go out partying with the cousins to celebrate Mick's graduation. 

I realize that there are some occasions that are going to be painful for me.  Occasions that Mark would be so into and so happy about.  The birth of Joey was one of them.  Drew Brockmeyer's wedding, Meghan Hearst's wedding, Scott and Mary Sturdevant's wedding, and of course the birth of Scotty Gartner's baby boy.

I was able to cope better with the birth of the babies.  He knew about Evan...saw his ultrasound picture, even knew the baby's name.  Mark bought Susie and Scott a changing table for their baby.

He didn't know about Joey.....but something tells me that he did before anyone of us knew.  That gives me peace.  I know he is watching over John's babies.

But damn, he wanted to be here for Mick's graduation.

So the selfish side of me came out over the past several weeks.  When I got the invitation for Mick's graduation, I put it away.  I thought about it a lot.  I felt some sort of relief when John's graduation was just a day or two before Mick's.....and we weren't sure exactly what we were going to do for John's graduation.  I didn't know if we planned to have a small family party to celebrate or what.

I talked to Mike and Debbie about it. They totally understood and since Mick was going to have a separate celebration in July for Mick.  I was to keep focused on John...their instructions.

I talked to Katie, I talked to Debe Dodo, I talked to Mom.  They all understood.  Too much going on this weekend.

Finally, I called Mick last week.  I told him that I didn't think Don and I were going to be able to make it.  He already knew that John was graduating and we discussed how the medication that Uncle Don takes wipes him out on the weekend.  (There are many weekends that Don sleeps almost the entire weekend and I am basically here all by myself.)   We talked about how hard it was that Mark wasn't going to be there.  Mick, just like his mom and dad, told me to stay home, and celebrate John's accomplishment and take care of Uncle Don.  We would get together when he came back to St. Louis in a week.

The next day, John and Tabby told me they decided he wouldn't "walk".  It was too late in the evening and too much for the babies.  They would just take pictures later.  No family party....what they wanted more than anything was to spend some time with one another and celebrate...and would I watch the three boys?  Of course.  So, our graduation celebration was giving John and Tabby some time alone.  Priceless.

It was then that I had to come and realize that Don and I could possibly attend Mick's graduation.  I told myself to suck it up....and go.  It wasn't about Mark.  It wasn't about me....and the more I realized I was making it more about me the more I realized how wrong I have been.

Today was Mick's day...or at the very least Mike and Debbie's.

I talked to Don and we both discussed how we felt.  That we were hurt that Mark wasn't here to enjoy this event that he had so hoped he would be a part of....and truthfully, how perhaps we were envious that our part of the  partners in crime duo...never got to do something like this.  That sounds terrible and looks awful in print...but it is I believe a truth for those of us Angel Parents as we experience the joys of other parents.  I guess in essence, sometimes we feel left out.

Suck it up.

We told only John and Tabby that we were going.  We felt someone should know we were on the road.  No one knew we would be there until five minutes before the ceremony started when we walked in the crowded auditorium.  Debe Dodo saw us in the lobby and she hugged us and told us how proud she was that we came.  She told us all the seats had been taken but there were some in the balcony.  She took us to see Mike and Debbie.  Mike took one look at us, and he started crying.

Right then, I knew that some of these feelings I have when an event comes up and we are without Mark, we are only putting our pain onto those we love. 

Debe made Cassie and Kaleb give up their seats.  I felt so bad.  I hope they are not mad at me.

I watched with pride as our Mick walked in, all smiles.  Since Mike too had graduated from Mizzou Law School...he was able to go on stage and "hood" Mick.  I watched with pride as my brother was able to do that.  I watched with pride as I saw Mick's mom smile and take everything in.  I cheered with my family when they announced Mick's name.  I watched with pride as my nephew shook the Governor's hand, then the Dean's hand.

And then I cried.

After shaking the Dean's hand, Mick took a step or two forward on the stage, and under the lights, he took out aomething around his neck, kissed it, and pointed to Heaven.

Mark was there after all.

Mick had been wearing two things around his neck, in addition to the hood he received for his law degree.  He had on a St. Mark medal that we had given to Mike for his birthday following Mark's death.  St. Mark is the patron saint for attorneys.  Mick also had around his neck, Mark's rosary...that we had given to Mick a week after Mark had died.  It was Mark's wish that Mick have his rosary.

So my sweet son, you can rest even easier now.  Your partner in crime is now a lawyer....just in case you need him.

This week we had great accomplishments......John got his first Masters.....Mick got his law degree.....and I got a better understanding that even as life continues, Mark endures.

Another milestone accomplished...my first Mother's Day / birthday all at once without Mark. 

What I knew in the past remains true....it is the anticipation that is worse than what actually occurs.  I should know this by now.  I should have an understanding that I am someone who worries and conjures up scenarios....utilizing precious energy that could be used on something more constructive.

It was the week, days leading up to Sunday...not the day itself.  I wasn't without Mark.  He was everywhere here.

It all started Saturday morning.  Don took me shopping and bought me a beautiful new fountain for the front yard.  I used to have a small garden statue that I gave to my mother and wanted something different this year.  It didn't have to be a fountain, but that is what we found.  It is of little boy pouring water into a pool of water. 

Don and I spent the day working on the yard.  By 6pm I was spent and went to sleep.  I can't even remember eating dinner.  I woke up around 3am and went and sat on the veranda.  OK, here I did cry some.  I remembered sitting there so many nights two years ago.  No one but me, the stars and my thoughts.  The stars are the same, the thoughts not all that different.

It was back then that I started preparing myself for what we knew was going to happen.  I thought a lot about how it would be when Mark left us.  Remember, I am one who thinks up entire scenarios of what is going to happen.  I didn't even come close to identifying the pain that we have felt since June 13 of that year.  Not even close. Yet, I do think we have progressed and tried to keep the promises that Mark asked of us.  We are trying to be happy as much as we can.

I went to the cemetery early this morning.  Since Don had put such a beautiful floral arrangement on Mark's grave last week, I decided not to change or add to it.  Instead, I took some of the "glow stones" that I bought through a catalog.  They are really quite neat....they glow in the dark.  (Granny told Michael that they are alien rocks....and he believes her.  We won't be able to put too many out as I know they are going to end up in a little boy's pocket.)  I left those on his grave.  I also, later this afternoon, left some at different places in his garden.  He will be glowing there...and also at home.

When I got home, I had some things to carry in the house and needed Don to move the truck.  I wasn't paying any attention to anything.  After a few minutes, Don said "That is the biggest dragonfly I have ever seen."  I asked him "what dragonfly?"  "The one on the front porch."

Now, I thought he saw a real dragonfly.  I am hoping that some are attracted to the water in the fountain and rushed out to see if that was what he was talking about.   On our front porch, was the most beautiful metal dragonfly sculpture.  It is about three feet long and three or four feet across at the wings.  It is stunning.  I knew just where it had to go....above the fountain between the bedroom windown.

I have asked Don, John, my mother, my brother....alll deny having put it there.  I have decided to quit trying to figure out who did this.  I believe whomever it was, wanted me to feel as though Mark had been there and left this for me for Mother's Day/Birthday.

If it was you....let me tell you that it worked.  I will forever believe that Mark left it there, if not by him personally, then by sending whomever this person was special messages to do so.

You made my day.

Later in the afternoon, John and Tabitha and the boys came over.  We had cake.  They gave me a beautiful Bible with my name embossed on the front cover.  Something, I told them, I had been wanting.  I wanted a Bible that the babies would fight over when Granny was gone.  Something they knew I cherised, something that told her she would see Uncle Mark again.

After everyone left, Don and me sat on our swing in our backyard.  We love how our backyard looks this year.  I did indeed find a statue of the Blessed Mother and she is nestled in the honeysuckle grotto that formed.  Surrounding her is the Lily of the Valley.  Yes, I was able to get the plants I wanted.  Some from Lois, some from Gwen.  Both Angel Moms.....so when I call it "Mother's Tears", it is not only my tears, but also tears of my sister Angel Moms.  Perfect.

Don let me stay on the swing while he went in and cleaned up the kitchen.  I sat there until the solar dragonfly light came on.....my signal that Mark was "calling" to me and telling me Happy Mother's Day, Happy Birthday.

I know it was him, because he had been there earlier, leaving me a dragonfly on the porch.

If this all was your intention, it worked.

Last night I met with my fellow Angel Moms at Lois's house.  It is so helpful, at least for me, to be able to unload all the emotions with others that understand what it is like to have Mother's Day upon us, and have a part of it missing.

Mother's Day for me is so different now.  I used to like the day, thinking that it was "my day."  I now understand and keep close to my heart that every day is Mother's Day....but this one day of the year it is now all about John.

It is going to be a big week for John.  He graduates with his Master's this Friday.  He worked hard on this, all during the time he was trying to adjust to his life without Mark, caring for his family, working on his house, and welcoming a new baby boy.  I cannot wait to get a picture of John holding his one month old Joey with Danny and Michael hanging on to him as well.  I am so pleased and proud of how Tabitha has supported John's efforts.  I do, without question, have the best daughter in law in the world.  I am so lucky to have her.

That is what Mother's Day really is all about for me.  The memories of past Mother's Days, however continues to haunt me.  I realized after talking to my sister Angel Moms last evening, that the same is also for them.

Four years ago, Mark was in Memphis.  He called me on my birthday, saying how sorry he was that he couldn't get home.  He had flowers sent to me.  We talked for a little bit, and he said he was delivering some golf clubs somewhere.  After we hung up the phone, I cried.  I felt sorry for myself that Mark wasn't going to be home for my birthday and Mother's Day.   I took a shower and scolded myself....I should be happy that Mark is happy, healthy.  There could be other reasons why he wasn't home.  A long shower.  A long cry. 

When I walked out of the bathroom and looked into the kitchen...there was Mark, with that grin of his.  It is one of my most cherished memories.

Last year, my first real Mother's Day without him, was difficult, but I got through it because I decided to give the day to John.  He is the one who bestowed the honor of motherhood on me first...the first person ever to call me Mommy.  He is also the one who allowed me to be called Granny.  The day is about him, not about me.

Four years ago Don's birthday was on Father's Day.  Mark was very distressed that he wasn't going to be home (one just doesn't take off on Father's Day in the golf retail industry).  He was angry and very disappointed.  About a month before his Dad's birthday, Mark called me at work.  He had a marvelous idea......why not surprise Dad and fly him to Memphis on Father's Day.  I am sure it was the best birthday/Father's Day that Donnie has ever had.  He went to church, went to John's for lunch, and opened up his gifts which included a plane ticket to Memphis.  He had less than three hours before he was in Memphis...all a surprise to him.  He did get to spend time with both sons.

This year, my birthday is on Mother's Day.  I am allowing myself some pity party time.  Birthdays are special in our family.  This one hurts a little, yet maybe it will be best.  I can get both days that I think Mark should be here over in one day.  I kiddingly told Don that I thought I was "owed" a trip.  He said he would fly me to Memphis....but I don't think I will ever again go to Memphis.

What I am owed can never be paid.....it is unspeakable that Mark isn't here.

I plan to spend some time at the cemetery Sunday.  Maybe, just maybe, there will be a dragonfly or some kind of sign that once again will be Mark surprising me on my birthday.  And if not, it doesn't matter because I have him in my heart.

Sunday evening, rain or shine....I am going to light the dragonfly lights on our gazebo.  Then, they will remain off until June 12...Dragonfly Night.  It is the beginning of remembering Mark's last month.

It is also the beginning of forever for me.

I suppose that I have been able to keep my hands pretty busy over the past couple of days.  I have Mark's garden pretty well completed....now just wait for a few weeks of rain and sun to make everything grow.

There are a few things I still want to do in the backyard, one of which is grow some Lilly of the Valley at the far end of the yard where the honeysuckle is growing.  A number of years ago I wanted to grow some sort of hedge, one that would allow us some privacy but still be pretty.  My goal was to hide the absolutely ugly chain link fence.  We have fought this fencing ever since we moved in thirty years ago.  Mae and I were remembering how so many years ago each of the neighbors painted the fence.  We were all walking around with silver in our hair.....and some of us still are only now it is natural.

I asked around and several people told me that honeysuckle would "take it over" and I would even live to regret it.  Katie bought me two little plants and together we planted them.  I have as yet come to the day when I wished I had never planted it.  The plants did indeed grow and take over at least twenty feet of the fence with a tall cascade that is about six feet tall.  I have the "ugly" side...the side that show the roots, and my next door neighbors love all the growth on their side.  A real win-win situation.

Last week I sat on my swing and looked down at the honeysuckle.  There is an area between the two main plants that is a little woody...but it fills in with all the green growth.  It is so pretty and I thought that it reminded me of a grotto...one that the Blessed Mother would appear in.  Other than plant the honeysuckle years ago, I have never really done anything else at that side of the yard.  I wished that I still had the Blessed Mother statue that we had a few years back.  She was left out in the winter and didn't make it. 

So, now I am on the lookout to find another one.  I almost prefer a used one....and I don't know why.  I looked on craigslist and the only one listed is way too big.  I want to put the statue in this "grotto" that formed.  Today I planted "pips" of another plant that apparently many think of weeds...I planted some Lilly of the Valley.  Not enough to do anything this year, but maybe get a start.  Filling in the area where there is no grass under the honeysuckle and surrounding a Blessed Mother statue is my goal.  I then plan to put some solar dragonfly lights around the statue as well. 

I remember the beautiful statue in front of the church where Don and I were married....I believe it is one similar to the Pieta.  Less than two months after Mark died, Don and I attended Mass there.  Believe it or not, prior to the Mass, everyone gathered outside near the statue as the priest was blessing the statue.  I can't really remember the details of why this was being done at this particular time.  I always have thought the statue was so beautiful.....and now it had even more meaning to me.

Perhaps I see Mary as the original Angel Mom.  I think it is fitting that I have a new place in the yard that maybe is just for me to reflect on myself, and feel that it is OK to grieve forever. 

As I was thinking about all of this, sitting on my swing, I tried to think of what I should plant there.  I couldn't just put a statue.  I tried to think of a flower that would be fitting, that would identify it as my area.  I already have lilacs in my yard and planted them there on purpose when John was a baby because that is one of the flowers/trees I remember so well from my childhood.  There were at least ten planted between the Henderson and Voelkel houses.  I used to play there, used to make "houses" for my baby dolls.  It was always very cool, very quiet.  I also remember a neighbor who had a bed of Lilly of the Valley.  Her name was Mrs. Fisher and she lived right behind us.  That is all I ever knew about her...that she had Lilly of the Valley. 

At some point I learned that Lily of the Valley was the flower for the month of May.  So, I decided that is what I would plant.  I went to five different nurseries and no one had them.  Finally, at all places, I found some packets at Sears with the root bulbs.  Today, in the rain, I planted them.

Now, just to find a statue.

When I researched the Lilies on the web the other day, I read that they were also known as "Mother's Tears.".  I have since figured out that this really isn't true..that the person who posted this was wrong because they are known as "Our Lady's Tears."  I don't care at any rate....they are Mother's Tears.

If I hadn't found them at Sears, they probably would have popped up anyway.  There have been enough Mother's tears in that backyard for the past two years to fill up any garden.

Whoops!!!  With the brith of Joey and working in between.....I  forgot to renew the domain name for this website.  That is why is was down for a couple of days.   Thanks to everyone who informed me because I didn't even know it.   I signed up for the nine year plan so this website will continue forever.

I am working hard outside trying to get our backyard in shape.  Planting lavendar and morning glories today....hoping for a beautiful fence this year. 

I loved the note I got from Michelle...how she found a note Mark had written her years ago.  I always am on the lookout for "new" things from Mark. Today, out in the garden I saw a bumble bee....not quite a dragonfly...but close.

Back out to the garden.......

He's here !!!!

See link at left for pictures...

Joseph David Mark DeWalle arrived at 9:13pm on April 14, 2009 weighing in at 7 pounds, 14 ounces.  "Joey" is a cutie and we are going to keep him.

It was a busy day for the boys.  Mawmaw Hanson got them ready for school.  Granny picked them up at 11:15 and first we went to Burger King to have lunch and play, then on to Build a Bear.

The boys and me have been planning this for months.  They were all set to build a monkey for their new brother on the day he was born....so both would have the same birth certificate.  We have spent many days trying to think of a name for the monkey.....didn't want to use anything that might be used for the baby.  Finally, today during lunch we decided that the monkey would be named "Jeff".....in honor of "The Fool" who happened to have his birthday on the 14th as well.  For Jeff the Fool's birthday, he got a brand new cousin and the honor of having a monkey named for him.

From Build a Bear, we went to the Magic House.  Granny knew that she had to keep the boys entertained because things weren't going as fast as we all had hoped at the hospital.  Granny ran into one of her dearest high school friends, Corrine.  We had not been in close contact for years...then met at a high school basketball game.  Her son attended Lindbergh and was playing against Mark in basketball.  As we sat in the stands and remembered our high school days....her son and Mark battled it out on the court.  I really mean it literally.....Mark and her son were playing nasty basketball and each was getting angry at the other.  Corinne and me just laughed about it.  When I told Mark that "that kid's mom" was a very good friend of mine, he said "Figures."

It was getting late and I was hoping Danny would take a nap.  We were not far from Grandma Joyce's house so we decided we would go there.  Immediately Michael wanted to see if Kyle would be available and Grandma Joyce went over to get him.  I made a quick stop and bought a new camera.  Just couldn't get the four year old battery in Mark's to hold power and I sure needed a dependable camera today.  After awhile, it was off to the hospital.

The boys were able to spend some time with Mama and then waited in the waiting room.  Michael entertained himself with his favorite activity...drawing.....and Danny fell asleep.  About 9:30, John came out with his video camera going and woke Danny up....time to meet their brother!!  Tabitha's parents, Don and me were left waiting in the waiting room....armed only with the information that the baby was here, the time he arrived, and how much he weighed.

When we were finally able to go into the room....Michael and Danny told us their little brother's name was "Joey."

John and Tabitha gave Joey three names....Joseph David Mark DeWalle.  They were very emphatic that Joey have his own name, his own identify....yet also have the graces of his brothers (Michael's middle name is David, Danny's middle name is Mark) as well as their only uncles...Tabby's brother, David, and of course, Mark.

This baby is all about brothers. His own brothers as well as his parents' brothers.  Joey is one lucky little boy.

I did what I have been waiting to do for months....look into Joey's eyes.  They remind me of Mark's....but I really think that Joey looks an awful lot like Michael.  What overwhelmed me the first time I held him...to the point of tears...was that although our family has lost someone so very special, so much loved, that we are truly blessed.

Joey is going to be the grandson that for the rest of my days will remind me of our family's blessings.

I just can't wait to tell him about his Uncle Mark.

No baby yet, but very soon.  Everyday last week we thought that he would be here and I could post a picture of the baby whose eyes I am waiting to gaze into.  Tabitha was very worried that she would be in the hospital Easter morning.  She didn't want to miss watching the boys hunt for eggs or go through the jelly beans.  Now that it is Easter evening, I am sure she is relieved that she was able to get through the day.

If the baby doesn't come in the next 24 hours.....the plan is for inducing the labor on Tuesday.  Jeff Henderson...aka as "The Fool" will have to share his birthday with our new grandson.    I think I once read somewhere that there is a law that if a new baby is born on a cousin's birthday (second, removed, first cousin or whatever), then that senior cousin...who would be Jeff...has to pay for the college education of the baby.  Pretty sure that is the law.

Friday evening Don took his medication early.  Before long he was asleep and I knew that I would be watching late night TV alone.  Then, the phone rang...it was Lisa Tretter.  I was so very happy that Lisa and Amanda Hubele came over, drank a couple of Don's beers, and just spent some time with me.  It absolutely made my weekend.  We even dug out the bins I have some of Mark's clothes in and they took a couple of shirts of Mark's.  They have no idea how their visit lifted me.

I am aware that many of Mark's friends, and even possibly his cousins, find it difficult to come over here.  It took me some time to get some understanding of this. Our house, from the time the boys were little, was always filled with his friends. It was that way through Mark's illness...and then, the day after his funeral, pretty much stopped.  John tried to help me with early on....reminding me that these were MARK's friends...not necessarily ours.  Yet, so much of my heart was comforted by them during those last months that sometimes I forget.  I do miss everyone.  I so appreciate the emails, messages I get from Mandy, Jenn, Rachel and still read frequently the one Tom Kaesberg sent me.

It is during my low points that I find so much comfort with Mark's friends.  They help me remember the really good times he had...and also how much he dearly loved them.  It will take the rest of my lifetime for me to try and explain that to them.

Last evening we went to Debe Dodo's.  John and Tabitha did not go because of not knowing if she would go into labor, etc.  Don wasn't feeling well at all and we sat in the living room and watched and listened as my sisters and brother and all of their kids bantered back and forth.  Nothing is funnier than listeening to Kaleb, Nathan, Mick and Jeff....except when Mark and John were mixed in there.  I understand fully why John couldn't be there....I just don't get it why Mark couldn't be as well.

For awhile I felt out of place.  Everyone had a "youngster" but Don and me.  I missed Markie being there so very much.  I was with my family and I felt out of place.

Today, the bunny left eggs in our yard and thank goodness our grandsons came and cleaned everything up.  As they were opening the eggs in the living room, John told me that he took the boys to Mark's grave and they put a colorful wind banner there.

It was the first time the boys had been there.

Tabitha told me Michael had explained to Danny awhile ago what cemeteries were.  "People die, they bury them in the ground, and then they put big rocks on them."  Once Mark's grave stone had been placed, I never drove into the cemetery again.  Michael can read and I didn't want to explain why Mark's name was on a stone.  That was something his parents needed to do.

So, on this first Easter following the realization that Michael knew what cemeteries are....John chose to take his boys to his brother's grave.  John said they saw the picture that Scott Pope had made and ran to it.  They understood that Mark's sick body was buried there, but the uncle they knew was not there...he was living in Heaven with Jesus. 

So, my grandchildren have a better understanding than most 4 and 6 year olds of the meaning of Easter.  It isn't just bunnies and eggs...it is living in Heaven after you die because you know and love Jesus.

I told Michael that soon I would take him there too to put some flowers there for Mark.  I asked him what was on the stone and he described the cross, rosary.  I asked him what was written on the stone.

"Uncle Mark."

That made me smile.  To them, he isn't anybody more than that special uncle who gave them big suckers, drove them to McDonald's, and watched cartoons with them in his bed.  He was the uncle who tearfully told their dad he was so sorry that he wouldn't be here for the boys.  He was the uncle who was so very proud of two little boys that he bragged about them and put their pictures on his Myspace and facebook.  He was the uncle who would call from Memphis and yell at their grandmother "Why didn't you tell me they took Danny to the hospital?" or  Michael thinking that his uncle was a St. Louis Cardinal and at the least, the real Superman.  Maybe that gravestone should have simply said "Uncle Mark."

I reminded Michael that the stone had Mark's name:  Mark David DeWalle.   Mark for Daniel's middle name.....David for Michael's.

I then asked Michael something I have been waiting to ask him. Something that I knew I could leave in his hands and make sure that forever Mark's grave would be taken care of.

"Michael, when Granny is too old to go to Uncle Mark's grave, will you please make sure that you take things to decorate it?"

"I will, Granny."

Something tells me that in the next couple decades, there will be drawings left at Mark's grave. 

Even if we don't get visitors that often.....I know in my heart now that Michael will be sure Mark always does.

It seems that all I can do anymore is sleep.  I am wide awake now, though, and I am sure at 3am when I am at work I am going to be regretting getting up early today and not taking much of a nap.  Maybe I am just rested up.

I have not dreamed about Mark, or had a "dream conversation" with him in many months.  It disturbs me when other moms who have lost a son/daughter tell me they NEVER dream about theier angel.  I know Mark will come back.  He told me so in the last dream where I was sitting on a hill looking at the river.  He was dressed in his white golf shirt, black pants, and jiggling his keys.  I don't know why he had keys or what is he is driving, because he gave his car to John and Tabitha.  Actually, I remember him saying in the interim that if anything happened to him he wanted Michael to have his car because it is "a cool car and Michael will like it."

But, there have been no dreams lately.  I have had dreams where I am telling myself, asking myself:  dream about Mark!  Dream about Mark.

This morning I cleaned out a closet.  I have a very exciting life. I found a box with Mark's medicines.  I thought sure we had disposed of them....all of his pain meds, his sleeping pills, his anti-nausea medications.  My first impulse was to keep them solely for the reason they were Mark's.  I quickly realized how foolish that was and flushed everything down the toilet.  Don and I commented that the sewer rats were going to be high as a kite, but also they wouldn't be having any problems with nausea.  I did keep one thing.....the compact mirror he used.

Mark was very particular about the mouth sores he would have as a result of the chemo.  He would line up all his mouth medication, and look at the sores in his mouth.  He asked me to get him a mirror one day so I went to the gift shop and bought him this little blue compact mirror. 

When I opened it this morning, I honestly hoped that I would see his image in the mirror.  I must really be losing it at times.  I quickly closed it and decided that I would keep it but not open it again.

I don't like that it has been almost two years.  For some reason I feel that when I realize it has been two years, it may seem as though time has healed and that the hurt isn't as strong as it was in 2007.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

The one thing that gets me through the days when I am feeling blue is one thing Mark said to me when he told me he was "through with it."  He said, "Mom, I am going to see the face of God."

Mark's faith was something he kept to himself.  I remember many years ago when he was about 12 we were talking in the car about religion.  I know exactly where we were....at the stoplight at Reavis Barracks and Union.  Mark told me "Well, I know I am going to Heaven because I believe in Jesus."

Several years later, with he and I sitting in his living room in Memphis and Jason getting ready to go to church...I commented to Mark that he should go to church.  He told me after Jason left. "I have made my peace with God.  I talk to Him more than anyone.  I don't need to go to church to talk to God.  I do that on the golf course."

I remember having several conversations throughout his illness about faith.  Of all the sermons, the Bible readings, the prayers, the Sunday School classes, having a grandfather who was a minister......nothing and no one ever confirmed for me the ultimate understanding of believing in Christ the way Mark did.  He not only believed it, he lived it...and surrounded himself with it when he was dying.

Gwen Houska brought over one afternoon shortly before Mark died a beautiful wooden cross.  Her father makes these crosses for people.  A few days later, Mark and I were discussing the items people had brought.  The Tribls had brought Mark a rosary that had been blessed by the Pope.  "Mark sure you give that to Mickey."  We looked at the travel rosary his friend, Tony Bernil, had carried throughout his world travels and left for Mark.  "Mom, get that back to Tony.  You can call him and find out where to send it.  He will need it."  He strained to look at the medal on the necklace one of the nurses had put on him during his last days in the  hospital.  "What is this...?" he asked me.  I told him it was a St. Christopher's medal... and he immediately said "This is for Uncle Mike."  When we got to the beautiful comfort cross, I reminded him that it was made by Gwen's father.  "Mom, make sure that goes with me.....I want to give it to Kevin."

It was the only item I put in myself in Mark's casket.  As a family, we made sure he had on his State Championship medal, a football that he had all his teammates sign years before as a gift for his father, some of his "Mark DeWalle" bracelets and a Pebble Beach marker that Tony Bernil put in his hands.  These were all things for Mark.  The cross was for Kevin.

Had Mark never asked for the cross to "go with him", it would have been the one item I would have wanted for myself.  There is a lot of symbolism, love and faith in that cross.  It would have given me strength on days I needed it.   A few months ago, Gwen's dad came by the house.  He brought me a new one.  He knew the old one had gone to his grandson, via Mark.

It helps to think and remember these things.  I know Mark believed in Christ, he believed in angels.  He told John and me the night before he died that there had been angels in his room....and they were coming back.  I remember him looking around the room when John asked if they were there now..."No, not now, but they are coming back."  He was not delirious (never was) and I remember he was folding his hands, praying.  He asked John to pray with him.

I like to think I am a strong person.  I loke to think my faith and the love of family and friends is what is getting me through.  But it is actually the faith of Mark that helps me.  When I see dragonflies....I think of Mark's faith.  Nothing more, nothing less.  It is the one thing that makes me happy.

So, that is why the night before the anniversary of Mark's death for me will always be dragonfly night.  Angel night just doesn't work.  I cannot see angels, but I can see dragonflies.  For those who read this....keep June 12 open and stop by. 

In the meantime, I am going to continue to pray everytime I get ready to fall asleep that I want a dream about Mark. 

I am not sure what is keeping me from writing on this website more.  I look at it everyday, but many times I just feel so empty inside, with nothing more to say, nothing more to write.

I know that within the next week or two, our new baby boy will be here.  I know that the weather will eventually stay nice and I can work in Mark's garden.  I know that as a whole, my family is healthy, happy.

I also know that no matter what happens, what transpires, there is always something missing, someone missing.  Just thinking about everything really saps all of my energy.

I try to focus on the good things in Mark's life and not his illness and death.  I try to remember when things were worry free, and our life was so "marked".

I know that others have moved on.  I can honestly say that although I don't cry every single minute of the day, things remain somewhat empty for me because I don't have Mark anymore.

I concentrated real hard on the way to work the other day to think of a story about Mark to entertain myself.  I thought about how we signed him up to be a Cub Scout.  John was involved in Cub Scouts through St. Francis and I was sure that this was something Mark would want to do.  We used John's Cub Scout uniform and I was happy that he was assigned a den that was just a couple of streets away.

He lasted two weeks.

I think Mark wanted to really come home and play with his brother and play street hockey.  When we tried to refocus him and encourage him to go to Cub Scouts, he would have nothing of it. He didn't like it.  When I asked him why....he said

"I don't like their refreshments."

That made me smile.  Whether that was the reason or not, Mark always found some sort of excuse that had no rhyme or reason....I bet he is the first to quit scouts because he didn't like the refreshments.

I couldn't sleep last night and was spending time just laying around, doing what I always do when I just can't move...think of my boys when they were little.  I have watched a couple of the picture movies Debbie A put together but what I really wanted, what I really needed, was to hear Mark's voice.

For Christmas 2006, my mother had taken all the videos that my father had taped throughout the years and put them on DVDs.  I have never been able to look at them because two days after she gave them to us, Mark's cancer came back.  Last night, I opened the treasure box that we keep the DVDs in, and chose at random one of the many to choose from.

I watched Mark at Thanksgiving and then Christmas at my parents when he was eight years old.  I watched him as he played with his cousins, made funny faces.  I am frustrated that I don't seem to have many pictures of Mark with his aunts or uncles.  On this tape, I watched as Mark became frustrated with something/someone......and for solace he went and sat on his Aunt Debbie's (Mike's Debbie) lap.  He was 8 years old!!!  He sat on her lap, got up....then later he again was sitting on her lap.

Another DVD had one of our famous family picnics.  At one point, I see Mark run over and just give his Aunt Katie a hug.  It was so neat to see.

What I loved most of all....was hearing his voice.  It allowed me so much peace, so much comfort.  What a funny little boy he was.

I then took the DVD with the state game and advanced it to the 3rd quarter, about 10 minutes into the game.  I watched over and over and over Mark sacking the quarterback for Rockhurst.  Such an important moment in time.

Last week I contacted the mother of CJ Aubuchon...the 18 year old boy from St. Charles who was on the news last week because GHP denied, then allowed for payment for the chemo, Temador.  This was one of the drugs that Mark was denied and we eventually were able to get for him from the drug company.  I told her, that I like to think that because of the trials Mark did on different drugs...some with promise, that maybe he has something to do with others being able to get the medication they need. 

Pretty much like sacking the quarterback, I like to think.

I took a brief walk to go check out a garage sale with Mae, and as we passed our house, I noticed that the forsythia bush Don and I had planted a few years ago was blooming.

I immediately thought of Mark.

The first year we planted it, it pretty much remained green.  The second year it bloomed, I missed it because Mark and I were holed up on the 7th floor at Siteman.  He was in for almost three weeks with low platelets, bleeding nose, and everything that went with it.  It was during this time that he really developed a friendship with his nurse, Julie.

Last year, when it bloomed.....I remembered how I missed it the year before.  The yellow blooms don't stay for very long...long enough I suppose for someone to get their platelets back in order.  It was a gentle reminder to me what had transpired.

Sunday, when I saw the blooming forsythia....it was more of a hello from Mark.  I will look forward to that every spring now....the first bright color in our yard will remind me of one of the bright spots of my life.

Tabitha and John came by after her ultrasound.  I kept Michael and Daniel while they went to the appointment.  The boys busied themselves turning over my landscape rocks to hunt for bugs to put in a bug jar they found.  They insisted I put the gazebo cover on and when I said I wasn't sure where it was Michael said "It's under you and Papa's bed, Granny."  It was...and they delighted watching me struggle to get the "roof" on the gazebo.

When John and Tabby came by they were in a very happy mood.  There had been concerns since her first ultrasound in November that there may be something amiss with the baby's kidneys....something that could be a problem, or could not be.  She has had monthly ultrasounds since to monitor this.....and today the ultrasound showed that everything was clear...everything perfect.

They had a picture of the baby....ultrasound style...and Tabby said "He has real chubby cheeks."  They showed me the picture and when I couldn't make out what was what...John explained what I was looking at.  Sure enough....there was my new grandson's face, his eyes open...looking at Granny.  This is something I have been waiting for months to see.

I couldn't really tell what he looks like, but I know that I only have a few weeks left until I am able to do what I have been aching to do......look into his eyes.

I will have a brand new person who I can talk about Mark to.

This will be a very special baby.  Something tells me in my soul he is being sent to me to help with the pain.

Next year, and every year after, I am going to take a picture of this new little boy by the forsythia bush and remember......

It is already March and I am so glad February is over.  This weekend the clocks get turned back and that means that I won't have to drive into work in the dark anymore.  It also means that spring is just around the corner.

I haven't written on the blog very much because I just feel pretty empty inside.  I will never be able to wrap around my head that Mark isn't coming home soon.  An hour doesn't go by that I don't think about him, and want to talk to him.

A couple of weeks ago I got the most beautiful card from Racheal.  I kept it on my desk for a long time, and then put it in Mark's curio cabinet. It meant so very much....not just because of the dragonfly on it.....but that she realized that when it wasn't the holidays, Mark's birthday.....that the messages would come far and few between.  It was indeed a message from Mark...a hello that I needed so very much.  What a very thoughtful thing to do.

A week later, Mandy sent me some pictures.  Totally out of the blue.  I had a copy of only one of them and to see new pictures of Mark....was a wonderful hello from him.  I absolutely loved the picture of Mark and Mick asleep.....it made me laugh.  I had never seen it before.  I think the family got a kick out of it as well.

Tom Kaesberg left a message on my voice mail.  Tom is a real class act.  I keep meaning to call him back but whenever I get the chance, it is too late at night.  Hearing from Tom......just like the card and the pictures....meant so very much.  It means that his friends still think of Mark.

I would guess that Don and I are doing the very best we can.  We seem to be lonely a lot.  There isn't much activity around here.  I miss the days when this house had a lot of people in it.  Some of that is empty nest....a whole lot of it is empty Mark.

I have been trying to fill in my lost hours with shopping online looking for dragonfly things.  I got a kick out of Tabitha yesterday when I showed her a dress I had bought.  She kind of rolled her eyes at me.....in a good way.  But, they dragonflies make me happy.

Don and I have kept ourselves busy redoing the basement bathroom.  Anyone who has been in our house knows that this is long overdue.  We want to get it done because there are things on the outside that we can't wait to get started on.

We are going to work on Mark's garden as soon as the weather breaks.  I know that will help me tremendously.  I am more at peace when I am doing something that is Mark oriented. 

I think about Dragonfly Night and have been collecting things, thinking of things, that I want to do that night.  The dragonflies take the pain away from what the night really means.....the anniversary of Mark's last night with us.  The anniversary of him saying to me "It's ok, Mom, I am ready to go."

In the next month, our new baby boy will be here.  I keep thinking about the night Mark returned from Pebble Beach.  He sat at the table and excitedly told Don and me everything that had happened on his trip.  He then asked about his grandfather's funeral and I told him we had a videotape.  He said he wanted to watch it....but watch it alone.

I gave him the tape and he went downstairs and watched it.  After it was over, he told me "I just went to Grandpa's funeral."  We talked about how important his grandpa was to him (Mark was born the day after his grandpa's birthday) and how much we would miss him.

"All we will have to do is look in the baby's eyes and wel will see Grandpa".  When Daniel was born, he reminded me of that.

When John and Tabby's baby is born in the next month.....I will be looking into his eyes.

That's what I have really been waiting for....no matter what his name is. 

I posted at left, a picture of Mark's grave with the picture Scott Pope made so that we can actually see an image of Mark when we visit Park Lawn.

I have been on this website a lot lately.  I have been reading the posts on the guestbook from months before and realized how perfectly everything fit in Mark's life.  His illness, his work, his friends and his family....all were just perfect fits.

There has been a considerable decrease in the activity on this website and for me, I believe that means that most everyone has found a place to put Mark's journey to a place where it shoudl be. 

Don is doing so much better.  Last week, a good friend of his began experiencing the trauma that happens to one's soul when someone close dies.  It was warming to my heart to hear Don on the phone supporting his friend and stating "It will be hard, but  you will come through it."  I knew then that Don is also finding a place for all that has happened.

I can only imagine how Don feels.  I know that as Mark's mom, an hour doesn't go by that I don't think about Mark.  At times, I cannot wrap my head around the concept that he isn't here with us, won't be calling, won't be busting into the kitchen looking for something to eat.  Even that concept...looking for something to eat....has been gone for a very long time.

I remember Christmas 2006 when Mark really didn't eat anything at all.  He said he wasn't hungry and I really didn't think it was anything than that.  For the next several months, I prayed that Mark would eat.  He ate very little.  I recall him being excited that he ate seafood with Mandy and Tyonn the night before his golf tournament.  I cannot imagine being in a state of perpetual nausea for six months.  Food became very unimportant to him.

What sustained him was the love and support of his friends and family. 

I spent the weekend preparing finding new places for some of his personal belongings that I cannot let go of.  We are going to remodel the downstairs bathroom and create a closet that can be accessed from the bathroom.  I needed to move Mark's things to new places.

I found a spot for his extra golf clubs.  I found a place for the stop sign he stole from somewhere when he was in high school.  I found a place for his shoes that I cannot give away.  I threw nothing of Mark's away.  Hanging in my closet now is his famous Memphis sweatshirt.

The pain is still there.  Yet, I remained determined to talk about him everyday, and even pretend that things didn't happen the way that they did.  I am determined that his short 24 years are not forgotten. 

I don't dwell as much as I did on the last six months of his life.  I try to amuse myself and think about times when he was little.  I try to imagine his excitement over the impending birth of his new nephew.

The pain, the loss, the "it isn't fair" thoughts continue every hour.

I just can't find a place for those.