I look at this website everyday.  I don't always write here because usually there isn't anything new to say.......still the hurt, still the missing, still the "can't believe this even happened" feelings that never change.

I have found that it is especially hard to change anything else as well.  Shortly after Mark passed away, John suggested that we change his room decor, change everything in there.  Don and I were comfortable with the way the room was.  It had been our bedroom for 20 something years and when Mark got sick, we moved his things into it.  We have a very small house...and wanted to give Mark as much room as possible.  Changing the room wouldn't change things. 

For me, keeping things the way they were when Mark was here became an excuse for not doing anything new.  I know that even certain things that changed, such as the completion of Telegraph Road became an issue for me.  Telegraph was under construction during Mark's last days and it even created more of an issue as his funeral procession went through the construction.  The other day driving home from work, I thought to myself that Mark wouldn't even recognize it.

Slowly, though, I am beginning to let go a little more of these silly notions.  A huge change was made when Don and I decided to paint the living room.  It had always been what my brother called "a parlor".  I took the television out of the living room years and years ago.  Having a small house, I never liked that the first room people walked into when they came into our house always looked so lived in and a mess.  I changed the room to a "parlor" when Mark was barely a year old.  It had a very old style, Victorian type decor.  It took me six months to find curtains that I liked....curtains that I STILL have.  We had not painted the room since way before Mark got sick the first time.

It looks nothing like it did.  Gone are all the fru-fru things.  We put the Victorian like pictures away, moved the glass fringe lamp to the bedroom, and painted it a dark green.  My mother and I found a metal, contemporary picture that replaced all the blue/mauve pictures and wreath that used to hang above the sofa.  Still, no television in there and my 25 year old curtains look just as good as they did before.

Mark would never recognize it.

Two weeks ago we moved the aquarium to the family room in the basement.  We noticed that the wood floor underneath the aquarium in Mark's room was becoming "salted".  What a job that was...and we felt that it was the best time to move it.  We didn't lose any fish...but did lose the serpent starfish.  He had been looking a little bad...and had some bad spots on him.  I knew he wouldn't make it.

It made me feel a little sad when I saw the starfish (what the babies called "Octupus") didn't survive the move.  It was the last original thing in the tank that Paul Choe had placed in June 2007 to amuse Mark.  Another change, but we are still enjoying the beauty of the saltwater tank and still remember the kindness offered to Mark through it.

This may seem so trivial, but actually it is all a huge step for me.  I was going through some things from the desk drawer and found the pictures that I used to have hanging from my work ID.  I had finally taken them off, because through the two years I wore them, the colors began to run.  Mark's pictures were now more green than anything else.  I just couldn't throw them away because they were of Mark.  Don threw them away.  I felt bad.

I now understand why some people hold on to things.  I have a slight understanding of hoarders.  It is an attempt to make time stand still.....to keep things as they were.

This week will be the 18th anniversary of Jimmy Brockmeyer's death.  It seems like it was yesterday, yet Jimmy has been an angel longer than he was here with us on Earth.  On Jim and Lois' family room walls are paintings of clowns that used to hang in Jimmy's bedroom.  I suppose some people who visit them are not aware of the significance of those pictures.  I understand why they have them there.

I did dream about Mark the other day.  It was a disturbing dream and I don't remember what it was about.  I know what he was wearing....one of his striped polo shirts.  It had something to do with him writing a paper at school and me being mad at him about it.  I did not wake up with a good feeling because I couldn't remember what it was really about.  I keep hoping that another dream will come.

Sunday afternoon, Joe up the street took his son and a couple of other kids to Kinswood Drive and cleaned up "Mark's street" for a community service project.  It has been so cold and Don and I haven't been up there that it was such a treat for us to have these young men do it.  It meant a lot to me, knowing that maybe for an hour or two a couple of young boys were doing something in a round about way that honored Mark.

Those are the only two things that in the past month have been new Mark related events.  I hate that they come so far and few between. 

I haven't been back to the cemetery since Christmas.  Don went by and took the cross and the picture Scott made.  Later in February we will put them all back.

I follow Mark's friends activities through Facebook.  I don't have my own Facebook because I think I am a little too old for it....besides, I have this website to collect my thoughts on and I don't think anyone really cares one way or the other what I am up to.  I thought the other day that things continue to change and progress with his friends.  I am sure he is happy with everyone's successes.

It is hard to make changes, but I am trying.  I think that is what Mark meant when he told Don and I we had to keep going.

I will continue to try and do that, but no matter what, I am keeping some things just the way they were.

Today I went "sledding".  I haven't done that since my own boys were little.  I bought a saucer sled, picked up Michael and Daniel, and went hunting for the perfect hill before all of the snow went away.

They had never been on a sled down a big hill.  I hope when they are older, that they will remember it was their granny who took them.

We had a great time.  I never went down...just kept pushing them down and enjoying the screams and laughing as they bounced down the hill.  They followed the main rule well:  if you go down the hill on the sled, you have to bring it back up.

This evening I watched a few movies on the computer.  I learned a few things....or maybe I was just able to hear what I always knew.

Everybody has a story....and so many people, including ourselves, only see one side of the story.  It is important to enjoy yourself and the ones you love, and perhaps the most important, the purpose of our existence is to love one another.

I thought about these things that I heard throughout the evening.  I read recently in some short story in a magazine, a character stating "If I had it to do all over again, I would do it exactly the same way."

I think this character was meaning to say that he didn't have any regrets.  I have just one regret....that we lost Mark.

But, there isn't one thing that I would have changed.  I would have not spared us the hurt of losing him by not ever having him.  So much of my day is spent thinking about him, wishing he was still here.

Daniel's "kid" birthday party was Saturday.  Michael was right in there and dealing well with his brother being the center of attention.  I looked at John from across the room and just started giggling.  He looked over at me holding Joey, and I mouthed the words "This isn't a very fun day."  John grinned, he knew what I was thinking about.

Don and I were so glad that Paul came over today.  We are in desparate need of painting the inside of our house...every room.  The last time the house was painted was well before Mark got sick the first time.  We did paint a bedroom before he came home from Memphis in 2006, but that has been it.  We needed to fix the crown moulding in the living room before we got started on any painting and Paul came over and did that for us today.  It looks perfect now.  I am just tickled.

It was good seeing Paul.  This evening Don and I were talking about how much Mark loved him.  We also recalled that it was this time three years ago when Mark was so very sick in the hospital.  We had been told that our son may not survive the weekend.  Mark seemed to rally around, only to become sick again a week later.  They had told us they were going to need to do a bronchoscope and put him on a ventilator.  I had been cautioned by a very good friend who was a physician that we should be prepared that they may not be able to get him off the ventilator.  The night before the bronchosope, Paul called and said he was coming up to the hospital, and was there anything he could bring Mark.

A blue Slurpee.

Mark eagerly waited for Paul.  I know Mark was afraid of the procedure in the morning and was looking forward to having Paul come by...especially since he was bringing him a Slurpee.

Paul showed up within the hour, with an nearly empty Slurpee cup.

"My dying wish was for a Slurpee and you drank it?!?!?!" Mark said to him.

It made Don and me smile remembering this.

I suppose we are in a little of a rut right now.  We went through the motions of the holidays.  I decided not to place so much emphasis on them anymore.  Keep the presents just for the babies, decorate only the living room.  We put up a good front, but realized that never again would our holidays be what we wanted them to be.  Things will always be different.

I remember two years ago when I would drive up to Mark's grave, specifically when there had been snow.  No extra footprints to Mark's grave anymore.  Few hits on this website. Less phone calls, less emails.  The only thing that is the same is that I (as well as Don) still think about him every single hour of the day.

We were to have Angel Moms last week.  I had planned on going until I left the house on an errand and had a terrible time on the roads.  I called Gwen and was willing to go, but to be honest, I was a little afraid.  I don't like driving at night and I was a little skittish thinking about going back on the roads.  Now, I wish we had our meeting.  It always seems to help to talk things out.

I have come to realize that when I don't write on Mark's site, that it is usually because I am feeling more down than usual.  Sometimes the stresses just catch up to me and I retreat to my books or watching movies.

Then, when I look at his site and see that it has been weeks since I have written anything, I feel as though he is slipping away even further.

Having Paul come by today to help us, really helped.  It reminded me that his friends loved him and that they still think about him.

Unlike that Slurpee cup, I am never empty of Mark thoughts.

It is very early....very early Christmas morning.  Our third without Mark.

Mark's Aunt Debbie (Mike's Debbie) said a couple of years ago that after something is done five years in a row, it becomes tradition.   A couple of things have started down that road since Mark left us....and I hope it is true.

Again this year, we put Mark's tree up on his grave.  Along with Don and myself, my mom, Uncle Mike, Katie and Kyle decorated my father's grave and then Mark's.  We used the same little tree we bought that first Christmas....still with all his friends' and family names written on angel ornaments.  Each year I add something, a new little ornament, and this year was no different.  Michael and Danny helped me put some new ornaments on the tree.  That will be special for me in coming yearsbecause this is the first Christmas that they knew about "Uncle Mark's rock", which is what they call his gravestone.  Katie had a new wreath to go with the one Don bought last year and I added a solar light candycane.  He has the best looking grave around.....boy, I hate being able to say that.

Yesterday we had our visits from Lisa and then later Scott and Nick Pope.  I know in coming years, it may be hard for Lisa to get home, but it doesn't matter.  I will never spend a Christmas Eve and not think about Mark calling me to tell me he was out looking at lights, or going to a middle of the night breakfast with Lisa.  One year he called me at work, very upset that the live nativity scene didn't have anyone there.  It was 2am....just what did he expect.  So many Christmas Eves I spent at work and if I was at home...getting ready for the next day.  I don't have any specific family traditions for Christmas Eve of the boys.....I know really none for John.  The only memory I have is those last couple of years Mark would make sure he was with Lisa for a least a short time.  The first year or two I cried when I saw Lisa on Christmas Eve.....now it is just warm memories.....I look at her and remember how much he loved her.

Don and I spent part of yesterday afternoon with our pseudo-sons Scott and Nick Pope.  They have made it an effort to be sure we are not alone on Christmas Eve.  They have been here every year and I know both Don and I look forward to their visit.  We now make sure that everything we want to do that day is done, that we have time just in case they come by.  It is always a treat for us.  I have to admit that during Scott and Betsey's wedding ceremony, I thought "no more Christmas Eve visits."  We had a wonderful visit with them.  I don't think they realize how important this is to Don and me.  I look forward to more Christmas Eves with them.

We talked to Butch yesterday.  We can go months and not talk to him....busy as we all can get.  Yet, hardly a day goes by that I don't remember what a wonderful guy he is.   He was our rock during Mark's ordeal.  We are going to get together after the New Year.

I have spent some time reading over the Bible, thinking of what the meaning of Christmas is and how it impacts our life.  I know, just like my boss told me the other day, that Mark is OK...that I just really miss him.  No words are more truer.  There is a huge...huge void in our house.  We cut back drastically this year due to finances.  Yet, there is a feeling of renewal.  I bought new decorations this year and hope to continue to do that...to replace those ones I destroyed December 27,2006.  I have learned that it isn't Christmas past that is lost.  They aren't lost.  They are just in a special place.

Mark continues with us this year.  Michael wore his belt yesterday when he dressed as Santa to give our blankets and gifts to my patients at the hospital.  There are dragonfly ornaments, plus a new one for this year, on our tree.  There are new and old decorations on his grave.

And some of the void that happens during the holiday season, has been filled with Mark's friends coming by, Christmas cards from his friends, and messages on this website.  A little joy, and a whole lot of love and friendship.

I know Mark will have a wonderful Christmas.  He is here with us and some how worked things out for his Dad and me that in the next year, we won't be worried about money as much and can concentrate on our lives together. 

In a couple of hours, my Mom will be here and then John, Tabby and the monkeys will be here.  We will have our Christmas Chaos and laugh, smile, hug.....and all will remember that there is someone not here who should be.  There won't be any stockings this year....I just can't do the stocking thing without Mark....at least not yet.

Merry Christmas to all of Mark's friends...you continue to sustain us.

The day after Thanksgiving, we got some good news.  We like to think that the news came because we had an angel pulling for us.

Don got full approval for Social Security disability.

When it became apparent back in July that he physically could not do his job anymore, we knew that we would be "tight" for the next several months.  We continue to try and recover financially from Mark's illness and my long time off of work.  The help from the fundraisers, thoughtful gifts from friends, made our time with Mark less stressful.....but full recovery was still underway.

We had no choice.  Within two weeks, Don filed his application for disability.  It is a very long, tedious process.  We completed the application online, and with all of Don's medical records, information, etc.....it took us SEVEN hours to do.  Then, of course, the repeated processes which included completing more forms, going to the Social Security office, going for physicals.

I tried really hard to keep the finances for our household away from Don.  On more than one occasion, he said he would just go back to work.  That wouldn't do.  He can't work.  We would just have to wait it out.

We discussed it with our nephew, Mick.  We discussed it with people we knew who had applied for Social Security.  We knew, at the very least, it would be about six to eight months before we even knew if he had been accepted.  Most everyone else we spoke with or networked with online, had been in the process for over a year.

Don was approved within 100 days.  We won't have to appeal, hire an attorney.  Our hope was that we had an answer by February.  Instead, Don will start receiving benefits starting then.

It takes a huge relief off our backs...especially mine.  I know Don didn't like that Iwas working extra.  I know we both felt maybe we shouldn't have taken our Mark Birthday trip....we should have kept that money back.  Now we know, that it was meant to be.  Don was to stop work, we were to take the trip, and everything would be finalized before the holidays ever even got started.

I signed up to work extra this week.  I am sort of dreading it....sleeping/working and not accomplishing anything else for the next four nights.  I can do it.  We have been through much harder times before.  It will probably be the last time I put myself through it.

I am almost excited that the weather will may be bad this week.  I don't mind driving in the stuff.  I just take my time.  If it is bad enough, then John won't have to work.  But most of all.....I don't have to worry about my husband out in the cold.

I was going to post last week that we had received this information, but I didn't want anything else but the Mark DeWalle Courageous Heart Award highlighted.

Something tells me that Mark does watch out for Mom and Dad.

I know that John reads this website.  He doesn't post anything except for once a year.  I supposed he uses it to see how Mom is doing.....or to just read about Mark.   He doesn't have to go far to see / think  / hear about Mark for each of his sons certainly has aspects about them that are clearly "Uncle Mark."

I do know, that this will be the third year in a row that he has allowed me to post his words.  Perhaps it is fitting, that the only time he posts anything here, is what he had to say in presenting the Mark DeWalle Courageous Heart Award at the varsity banquet. 

     Two years ago I spoke at length about my brother, Mark and his unwavering love of Mehlville football from the time he was 11 years old.  I spoke how he played almost every position, starting 34 Varsity games in a row, was a captain, an All-Conference selection, and a member of the 1999 State Championship team.  But most of all, I spoke about the lessons Mark learned as a Mehlville Football player that helped him in his fight against cancer. 
      During Marks battle with cancer, he would point out things he had learned in football that was helping him.  Football taught him how to never give up, how to deal with setbacks, how to lean on people who care about you, and how to keep a positive attitude. 
     The lessons we learn in football are not only for game nights.  Those greater lessons are for a lifetime of successes, trials, and failures.  We learn that when we succeed, we should not be satisfied.  We learn that when we fail, to try it again.  We also learn that sometimes things do not work out the way we had planned.  I know my brother did not expect to be diagnosed with cancer, and I did not expect to be standing up here tonight speaking about him in the past tense.   
     Two things come to mind when I think about Mehlville football and my brother.  The first is when he was 13 years old; he promised he would win a State Championship.  The second was when he was a senior in his final game.  There was only a few minutes left, but the game was out of hand and had been lost.  The end was near, but my brother was still laying every play as hard as he could.  He knew the outcome, yet he kept playing.  He had the character to go on and keep playing…. Not quitting…. Even when it was realized that it was not going the way he had expected it to.  I believe the recipient of tonight’s award has the same type of character.    
       For this team, and for tonight’s recipient, there were a lot of things that did not go the way things were expected to go.  Some of us expected to win starting job or rotations, and others not to suffer season ending injuries.  Some of us may not have expected playing as much as we did.  None of us expected for our record to be what it was. Two years ago I did not expect to lose my brother.  
      What was not a surprise was that in those final days, family, friends, teammates and coaches surrounded him.  None of them expected to be there…… 
     One his last wishes was to be wearing his State Championship medal and his FCA Courageous Heart Award when he died.  At the end he held on to his family, faith, and football….. 

     This years recipient of the Mark DeWalle Courageous Heart Award is presented to a player who has show he is willing to fight through adversity, stand up when he gets knocked down, staying the course and not quitting when things did not do the way he expected it to go.  He showed us that he is willing to put the team ahead of himself and I believe that he will use the lessons he learned this season to help guide him throughout his life.  I am proud, on behalf of the coaches and my family, to present this year’s award to Brian Foppe.

Our family congratulates Brian Foppe!!!!!


I had written a long piece about Thanksgiving the other day, only to have accidently deleted the entire thing in the process of writing it.  I thought that I would just go ahead and put it here.....but something more important came up.

Our family is so pleased that last night, Brian Foppe, was awarded the Mark DeWalle Courageous Heart Award.  John didn't tell us who the recipient was until this morning and needless to say, Don and me are just thrilled.

I doubt that Brian even knows, or even cares, who Don and me are.  The fact that he does know that Mark's heart was 95% Panther football is all that matters.  The fact that he knows that whatever challenges he meets in the future, he will has the Panther brotherhood spirit with him always.....as do all Panther football players.

We have been so blessed with the team remembering Mark and the importance that Panther football can have on their lives.  It is easy, I am sure, to coach or even play on a team that wins every game.  Sometimes, our family has learned, even defeats can lend a positive slant on life to those who face great trials.  This year's Panther team is no different than the teams that had an extended season.  They have each other, the sport and more importantly, the spirit that will make them stronger, better men.

We wondered a lot who was going to get this award.  It is the one thing during the holiday season that gives Don and me a sense of renewal.  It is our Christmas with Mark.  The gift he wanted to share with his future Panther brothers.

So much is wrapped up in this award.  All the seasons John played with Mark standing on the track to catch any PATs.  Mark flipping hamburgers when he was 11 for John's Fresh, Soph and varsity teams.  All the older players who considered Mark their little brother.  Mark wearing his Varsity satins the first time as a Sophomore and Don and me telling him "Now, don't expect to play.  You are a back up player.  There are Juniors and Seniors and this is their time."  And his response..."No way, I am going to start and I am going to play both ways."  That he did, for three glorious seasons.

There is the memory of his teammates, and his brother's teammates, coming to his side when he learned he had cancer.  I remember one particular night, back in 2003, that he went out with his fellow teammates.  He came home at three in the morning, just so happy.  "That was one of the best times I have ever had."  They had all come home from college to rally around Mark.  I remember particularly Mike Mahler taking him out.  Teammates for life.  Always there for one another.

I know of only one other time the "State Team" got together after they all graduated and that was when they all came together for Mark's volleyball tournament.  Set up, of course, by Tom Kaesberg, a Panther brother.

Then, at Mark's last hours, he wanted his coach, his brother, his State medal and his FCA medal.  He died with those medals around his neck.  Just hours before, he discussed with Coach Heyde the idea of a Mark DeWalle Courageous Heart Award.  His last plan, his last play, his last run was all Panther football.

Mark was no supreme hero.  He was just a good kid who happened to love Panther football.  He was just a good kid who knew what was important in life.  He was someone who died with more dignity than can even be imagined.   At his side, throughout it all, were his brothers.

Any player could have been awarded Mark's award....I am sure that there were several who were considered.  It just so happens that Brian was the one chosen.

I am sure Brian's parents love him and are just as proud of him as we have always been of our sons.  Perhaps the award doesn't have the strong meanings it has for us, or perhaps it does.  We do hope that they understand that their son will forever have a special place in our hearts.

If you know Brian, have his email or perhaps Facebook....please take time to congratulate him.  We are so pleased.

And more importantly.....something tells me Mark is pleased as well.

 I have spent the weekend thinking.  That is all I have accomplished.  Just doing a lot of thinking.

John's birthday is tomorrow and I thought a lot about that time 31 years ago.  I recalled how I first learned we were expecting.  I was working in the ICU and there was a patient that was to undergo a cetain therapy where a pregnant nurse could not care for them.   My boss asked me in the morning if I was expecting, and I said I really didn't think so.   I had a miscarriage a few months before and pretty much put baby ideas out of my head.  Don and I had only been married for a little over a year, and we still lived in the little flat apartment in the city.

All we had was a small black and white tv, a dinette set, our bedroom set, and a chair.  Nothing else.  Everything we owned was in our closet.  I had only been an RN for 10 months.  We had absolutely no resources to start a family yet.

But, I thought it best to have a pregnancy test anyway.  Back then, Barnes would run pregnancy tests free for us.  This was long before home pregnancy tests.  On my way to lunch I stopped by my boss's office and told her that I had sent a test, and if they called...just to take the message.  No HIPPA back then.  The lab would call with the results and whoever answered the phone, got the news.

I went to lunch and came back.  I remember I was over at my patient's bedside and my boss came in and said "We'll have to move you to another assignment, you're pregnant."

I was absolutely floored.  That's how I learned John was coming....from a boss who was a little agitated that I didn't know myself well enough, and she had to change assignments around during the middle of a shift.

It became a point to Don and me to find a house.  It would never work having a baby in that little flat with no furniture.  It was a drafty, second floor apartment and we really didn't like the people who lived downstairs who were also our landlords.  They seemed to like Don and me well enough..we just didn't care for them.  They really started to get nasty once they found out we were house hunting.

We only looked for one day.  We didn't have much money and I remember when we went to apply for our loan, I wore something that hid my pregnancy.  We found the house that we still live in, and moved in over the fourth of July.

We slowly got to know our neighbors.  It was a fairly young neighborhood.  Seems like every other house there was someone expecting.  We were the last to deliver.

We, of course, never knew what we were having.  Every paycheck I would put a few dollars back.  Our parents helped us out tremendously.  I had no clue what to do with a baby, what one would need.  

I took off two weeks before John was born.  I remember one day, I didn't do the laundry because I knew I wouldn't have anything to do the next day.  Don started tearing out a wall in the basement and planning the fireplace he was going to build  

I went into labor early one morning, the Saturday before Thanksgiving.  We went to the doctor because stupid me wasn't sure if this was labor.  We went to the Walgreens in Hampton Village afterwards to get cigarettes, of all things, and I remember barely being able to stand in line.  Stupid.  That was about 9am.  John was born at 11:30am.

When the showed me John...he looked exactly as I imagined he would.  There could have been a room with a 1000 babies and I would have picked him out.

I held him (no car seat law then) in my arms as Don and I drove home from the hospital on Thanksgiving.  We had stopped at his parent's house for Thanksgiving dinner first.  We had our little red sportscar that we called "Elsie".  We took him in the house, showed him where all the rooms were, and where his bed was.

I put him in the bassinet, took off my coat, then realized I had no idea what to do with him.  I still tell new mothers today, that I felt totally helpless.  He didn't even come with a instruction manual.

Despite everything, I think he turned out pretty good.  We had four years of Johnny......only Jeff came into the family before Mark and Mick showed up.  Everything we did revolved around John.

Then, four years later, things changed.  Mark bursted onto the scene and I felt so much better prepared.  I never would have picked out Mark in the room of a 1000 babies.  He looked nothing like I imagined.  I also thought he was going to be a girl.  I had made his room all frilly and yellow and green.  He was, though, one beautiful baby with so much thick, black hair, that one of my nurse friends in the nursery actually cut it (a big no no).

John adored him.  When I look at pictures of my boys, I have dozens of them hugging each other.  From day one until the day Mark died, John seemed to always have his arm around Mark.  All through their childhood, teen years, and young adults, they were always hugging each other.  

I continued to work full time and my parents would occasionally take one or both of the boys to give me a break....and to do something special with them.  They loved going to my parents.  Don's parents had passed away by the time Mark was a year and a half.  I think my mom and dad tried at times to make up for Sophie and Richard.

Because Mark was Mark, and a baby.....the nights when he would go to my parents always gave  me  a sense of relief...sounds bad but I always felt I had a little breathing room.  We would know that this was our time with John and Don and I would frequently say "It is just like old times."

I guess we said this too many times.  One weekend, my mom and dad came out to take John.  Mark was about four and the two needed some time a part.  After John left, Mark looked at Don and me and said "This is just like old times!!!"

I laughed and said, "Mogey, there were NEVER old times with you!!!"

Maybe at that time it was true, but no longer.

How I miss those old times with Mark.

I guess every year at this time I feel that I am some sort of abyss.  It was the day after John's birthday that we learned that Mark may have cancer.  It was then that I told John that I didn't have the book on how to react when told your son has cancer.  That Thanksgiving in 2003 was terrible.  John went with Tabitha to Illinois.  I worked after taking a day off to try and comprehend what was facing us.  We didn't feel like going anywhere for Thanksgiving.  I had bought a complete turkey dinner at Schnuck's for Don and Mark....and that was it.  Terrible, terrible holiday for us.

Ever since then, even Thanksgiving is tainted.  This year, I work once again, but don't go in until 11pm.  This year John goes to Tabby's side, so we won't even see him.  Don and I will go out to my mom's and spend the day with her and whatever people are able to make it there.  There won't be any Black Friday shopping this year.  I will probably be at work all night and don't have any money to shop anyway.

I think both Don and I feel right now we are in some sort of abyss.  Bottomless pit of missing Mark.  We are trying to face the holidays with an open mind, yet try to back off from anyone or anything that may not understand or just lead to more uncontrollable feelings.

Last week, I had major computer problems.  I still do.  The CD drives don't work on my computer and I must say that this writing is the longest I have been onlnie without getting booted.  I haven't answered emails, haven't even read a lot of them.  I haven't had the energy to answer phone calls.  There are so many I need to return.   I am worried that Mandy will think I have totally abandoned her.  I haven't contacted the Heydes to find out about their new baby girl.  I haven't called Lisa.

Give me some time to put my thoughts in place.  I know these feelings will pass and I will be better in a week or so.

Until that time, I am going to be thinking a lot about the good old days.

 

It is getting to that time of year, where no matter what is done, there is always something missing.

This Thanksgiving, this Christmas, it will seem no different than the past two.  We will go through the motions of getting ready.  We will gather with our family, we will shop for the babies, we will put up our tree.  We are better prepared than previous seasons without Mark since we know what to expect.

I still want the Christmas and Thanksgivings of the past.

We have told a lot of Mark stories this week with Mark's Aunt Jean being in town.  I realize that there is a lot of "Mogey Magic" around.  I feel it, I can see it when no one else can.

More than anything else, I love being an Angel Mom.  More than anything else, I hate being an Angel Mom.

I have tried to go beyone where I have been.  I have tried to do things, watch certain television programs that Mark loved.  Anything to fill the emptiness that will always exist because Mark isn't here.

I think of Markie no less than I did when he was here.  Every hour I think of him.  Every hour I try to trick myself into believing that what happened, never happened.

This is the year that John and Tabitha go "to the other side" for Thanksgiving.  Don and I will go to my mom's, then I will go to work.  That is the worst part of my job, working holidays.  Doesn't help that Thanksgiving is also our 33rd wedding anniversary.

It will be fine.  We will be with family, we will have our turkey.  It can never be perfect because we don't have Mark here.

Mark told us to go on living.  He told us to be happy.  He told us to take trips.  He told us to enjoy the grandchildren.  

For six months he was my Yoda.  He tried to get me ready.  He told me what he thought about life, his life, his beliefs.  I knew what he loved, what he didn't like.  He had no hate at all for anyone or anything.  He was grateful for what had come his way.  "Just think about that, Mom" was what he would say frequently.

He just never told me how to fill that empty spot, how to feel that something wasn't always missing.

 

I took off a few days this past week.  Don's sister, Jean, came into town for about 48 hours before venturing off on a trip to Spain.  Every couple of years Jean takes a really neat trip.  A couple of years ago she was here before she went on a sailboat (really big sailboat) tour from Venice to Greece.  Then a year or two ago she went to France.  This time, she is taking a riverboat cruise on the Douro River from Portugal to Spain.

We always love it when Jean comes into town.  This is the first time that Don has been off work for the entire time she was here.  She is coming back Sunday to spend next week in St. Louis as well.

I remember that Jean was here when I found out we were expecting Mark.  For some reason, perhaps it is that she was here when we first found out Mark was coming, there has always been a strong connections between Jean and Mark.  I believe, between her two nieces and two nephews, she knew Mark the best.  She, along with all of us, was devastated when Mark got sick.  During his remission, she was back in town twice in a four month time period...once in July for John and Tabby's wedding, and once again in October for Lindsay's.   In the short time between the two weddings, Mark's hair grew back and he was back to his old self.  He was also still living at home and was able to spend time with Jean.  He loved her dearly and really enjoyed introducing her to his friends at John's wedding.  I remember with such warmth in my heart, how his friends greeted her and referred to her as "Aunt Jean" at his funeral.   I knew Jean was flying in the day of Mark's first funeral day at Kutis, and it was one of Mark's friends who came up to me at the funeral home and said simply, "Aunt Jean is here."

I think that is what I love most about our son's friends....that they all referred to people in our family as Mom, Dad, Grandma, Aunt Jean.  I am sure it made Jean feel more included.  She was so far away during Mark's illness, yet someone I would call very late into the night, often waking her up, when I needed a shoulder to cry on.

Last week I also went to an Angel Mom meeting.  These aren't formal meetings, just Angel Moms getting together.  For me, this is always an important event.  So important, that I went to Angel Moms and was not home when Jean came in from Portland.  Jean knows how important these meetings and these ladies are to me.  Meeting with the Angel Moms at this time of year always helps me get ready and get through the holidays.  

Not that it has ever been said, but things mentioned or said in Angel Mom gatherings always remain between us Angel Moms.  What I have learned, especially the other night, was that I was given a gift the other Angel Moms didn't get.  All except for Lois and me, lost their Angels to trauma of some sort.  None of them were "natural" deaths.

Unlike the other Angel Moms, I was given the gift of time and conversation.  Lois had some time, although no warning that Jimmy's death was coming.  She could talk to him, sing to him (my very best memories of Jimmy are of Lois singing to him) yet he could only answer with that wonderful smile of his and those gorgeous blue eyes.

I was given two gifts with Mark....knowing that he was going to die, and also being able to talk to him about dying.

I always knew that this cancer was going to take Mark from us.  I knew it that day in 2003 when he told me "I found a lump."  I knew it throughout his first chemo and during his so-called remission.  It was a cloud that always hung over my head.  I woke up every single day asking "Is this the day Mark's cancer comes back?"  From October 2003 until December 27, 2006, I was in a constant state of panic.  I forced smiles and there were very few days that I wasn't consumed with worry.

I cried every single day....every single day.

I got into with a manager at work over this whole issue.  I felt like everyday I was having a heart attack.  I worried not about Mark moving to Memphis.....but what we would do when his cancer came back.

There were very few people I could take to about it.  Don, John and of course, Mark, believed that it was gone forever.  John told me once, "We are all on the same page."  I understood what he was trying to do....but I never believed it.

So, I internalized it, kept my fears to myself, and tried very hard to get on with life.  John and Tabitha's wedding, Danny's birth, are two of the days when I cried it wasn't about Mark...or perhaps it was.

I am rambling, but these thoughts just keep going through my head....and it is why I keep this website going.

I remember the excitement of the wedding.  It was such a wonderful diversion.  Tabitha allowed me to participate so much in the wedding.  She allowed me more than any soon to be mother-in-law should be allowed.  I remember when she, her mother and me went wedding dress shopping.  Tabitha walks out in one wedding dress, then another, and then another....and then I started crying.  It was the right dress.  Her mom, Linda, said to me, "You need this so much right now."  No one ever made a statement so true.

I remember how beautiful their wedding was, how proud Don and I were of John's choice of a wife.  I watched as the bridal party walked down the aisle.  I was fine until Mark walked down the aisle as best man with Tabitha's good friend, Cheryl.

That's when I cried.

It hit me at that exact moment, that months earlier I thought we would be attending a funeral.  Yet, here we were at this moment of John's wedding...and Mark looked so handsome (and so bald).

The day Danny was born, I spent the entire day at the hospital.  I think Danny was born about 1pm.  John came into the waiting room and told us he was here......and when John told me his name was Daniel Mark, then I started crying.  I sat in that waiting room for four or five hours before Mark and Don were able to get up to the hospital.  I didn't tell either of them on the phone the baby's name.  When John told Mark , all Mark could say was "I think I am going to cry." 

That all seemed like a hundred years ago. 

My panic state actually stopped the day Mark found out his cancer was back.  No more worrying...that dreaded day had finally come.  When I asked Mark what he planned to do ("Everything I can").  Then I asked him what he wanted us to do he simply answered "Never leave me alone." 

For the next six months, I very rarely left his side.

I like to think, even if it is selfish, that those six months were my time with Mark.  We soon had our own routine of getting his meds together, sitting up very late every night.  It is only recently that I have been able to watch programs we watched together.  Every single day of the first six months of 2007 were all about Mark.  I didn't care whose toes got stepped on, whose feelings may have been hurt, what to fix for dinner...nothing.....it was all about Mark.

He never took advantage of anything.  Never asked why, never asked for any more than we could give him.  He often got irritated with me....but always wanted me there.  We talked about everything.  I knew I was given a gift in that not too many moms of 24 year old sons get...their undivided attention.

My only regret is that I didn't journal everything we talked about.  I didn't keep a diary of those days.  How I wished I had.  The only thing I have is the entries I have on this website.

I knew our days were few and precious.  I just didn't realize at the time how few.

We talked about his childhood, how everyone was doing, how he was handling things, what he hoped for his friends, who he thought would be the next president and politics in general.  How he thought I spoiled Michael and Danny (true example of the pot calling the kettle black).  We talked about Heaven, his beliefs.

Those conversations are what sustains me today.

Yet, the real gift I was given....in addition to being the one that got to be his Mom.....was that I was able to say goodbye to him.

My sister Angel Moms didn't get to do that.

I thank God everyday for the time I spent...and continue to spend in a different way....with Mark.  But, especially after last week, I am thankful for the gift of being able to tell him goodbye.

I just wish I could say Hi one more time.

I don't know if it is because there is more time that has passed since Mark left us, or the trip we took to console ourselves over his birthday.....but this year has been much easier.

I am back to work after getting in very late Monday night/Tuesday morning.  We then spent the day getting ready for the birthday party in the evening.  The boys loved their presents and by now are pretty intuned with letting balloons go and singing Happy Birthday to their uncle.  It was such a hectic afternoon and evening....cooking, trying to look at pictures, answering mail.  It wasn't the evening I had planned.....I felt so tired and so stressed.  We were so happy that my mom and Jim, Lois, Drew and Kate Brockmeyer came over.  Leave it to another Angel family to understand the importance of birthdays for angels.

Then, immediately back to work for three nights.  Yesterday I spent the day with my mom, got to see Katie and drove out to see Debe.  Today, I was a lazy bum, but it seemed to be the first time I was really able to catch my breath.

We took over 500 pictures.  Getting them developed was an issue because at first they developed the first 250 three times.  I went back and they finally got most of the others printed but I have noticed a few they missed.

It cost a small fortune to use the Internet on the trip.  I think the short note I posted on his birthday was like $15 so I stayed away from posting until now.

The hurt, the sad feelings are still there, but somehow we both felt Mark with us during the trip.  We met so many wonderful people.  We had pictures of Mark on our door and everyone in our area knew the reason we were there.

I know Mark would be pleased....I only cried about 4 times.  After Don and me buried his bracelet on a beautiful stretch of beach in Aruba, I cried for quite awhile.  Then again that night when we drank his Grey Goose vodka in OJ.....we both sat and said nothing for a long time. 

While we were gone, Mark's dog, Sage went to John and Tabitha's.  I don't think she is ever coming home again.  She loves it over there and they plan to keep her.  She sleeps with Danny, plays with their dog, Sammy, and really pays attention to John and Tabby.  The first night she cried all night.  The second night John slept on the couch with her so she wouldn't.  That makes me laugh everytime I think about it.......John was never a "dog person" and I am sure his brother had a good laugh about that.

So, it is unusually quiet here without her.  Mark would be all over Sage staying with John.  He left most everything he had to John so they may as well have his dog.

Taking this trip I think helped me get over a hurdle or two.  I feel much less stressed, much less tearful, and am able to still think about Markie all the time and not feel that horrible pang in my heart.  I know he is ok.  I was comforted so much by the "Happy Birthdays" posted by his friends on his facebook page.  No one has forgotten him.

It helps me to close my eyes and remember perhaps the most beautiful place I have ever seen....Aruba.   I remember we were there on his birthday, and that the only thing that marks that we were there is a bracelet with "Mark DeWalle" written on it. 

There are so many wonderful memories.....and I do consider them Mark memories.  I could never tell all the stories, share all the pictures here....but a few of the highlights:

1.   There being only 27 people on the plane to San Juan.

2.   Meeting people I had "met" on a cruise forum.  They posted a sign on each of the people's door who had been on this forum......and on it was a dragonfly.

3.  The license plate in Aruba. (I love you too, Mark)

4.  Burying Mark's bracelet.

5.  The waiters bringing a cake and singing "Happy Birthday, Mark" to Don and me.  The head waiter made a nice little speech to Don and me on how we were to remember how at peace Mark is now.

6.  Being one of two or three out of about 20 people who actually made it through the rainforest and to the waterfall and spring.  Actually, I had to pee so bad I was determined to make it.

7.  Such lovely, wonderful evenings just sitting on the balcony, watching the sea, and talking to Don about our wonderful sons.

8.  Going deep into Puerto Rico to the non-tourist area with friends we met.

9.  Having not one thing go wrong.....well, other than...........number 10

10.   Packing so well the night before that I walked off the ship and through customs barefoot because I had packed every shoe I had.

Don did pretty well on the trip.  There were a couple of days that he had to sit most of the time because his hands, ankles were so swollen and he was in a great deal of pain......but that is the reason we took the cruise....there was so much time that he could do this and still enjoy the ocean.  I think the rest was good for him.

Today we heard from Frankie.  I was glad he had called because I didn't get a chance to talk to him before we left.  He was at the airport in Texas, ready to fly to London.  From London he was going to Dubai, then off to Iraq.   He has been unable to find work and even went to Texas for a few months.  He is going to be working in Iraq for the next year.  I know he will be safe, and come home with all sorts of stories.

I didn't dream of Mark once while on the trip...perhaps because he was so busy sending me signs.  It is late, and I look forward to going to bed already somewhat rested....and hoping that he has time to come visit me.

We took a tour of Aruba today before we headed to the beach.......and for the second time on this trip we got a numeric hello from Mark.....the first being in the very large plane we flew to San Juan from Atlanta....there were only 27 people.

Today on the tour bus....Don noted the license plate number.  The plates have two rows of numbers....the first row on this plate was 0027.......the second was  00166 (our address).

Happy Birthday,  son.   Tonight we are going to drink your Grey Goose we smuggled on (I know you are proud) and we buried one of your bracelets on the Marchebo beach in Aruba.  We miss you, love you.....and wish only that you were here and we were at home worrying about you.

Does the Marchebo beach look like Heaven????   I am pretty sure it does...................

We are getting closer to our trip.  Just two more nights of working and I will be off for two weeks.   I feel that the summer just left without telling me. 

We are trying hard to focus on this is a trip for us.....but we are certainly taking Mark, John and Tabitha and the boys with us.  Truth be told, Tabitha would prefer to be going in the literal sense and not just in our thoughts....but we will save that for another time.

I plan on wearing Mark's beloved Cardinal jersey...the one he is wearing in the picture with Debe on the first page of this website.  I am not real knowledgeable about the Cardinals, but I do know that they have been playing well and shouldn't get too many bad looks.  Just want to have something of Mark's with us.  Don is going to wear Marks Superman t-shirt on the trip.  We are sneaking his vodka into our luggage, and I have made a dragonfly to put on our door.  I have pictures of the babies and John and Tabitha to take with us and am making a small poster to put in our cabin on October 6th.

The posting in the guestbook the other day about me lying made me cry.  Really cry....because it is so true, every part of it.  I actually can hear Mark telling me that it is a surprise that I made it to Heaven....he WILL have some sort of comment like that.

I have read things about grieving parents.  All of the personal accounts from moms who have lost their child all say the same thing....that they cannot wait to see their child again.   I try every single day to be a good person so I will go to Heaven and get to see Mark.

I have been so busy with things at home, with working, getting ready for the trip, that when I do fall asleep I am exhausted.  Maybe that is why I haven't had a dream about him in awhile.   I hope that while we are on our trip, that I will be more relaxed, and will have some sort of visit from him.  I will be looking everyday for signs.

The other day I got a phone call from Tina Turner....no, not that Tina Turner.  This one had a son who played football with Mark.  They were great friends.  Norman Weaver always was the first person at our house on Fridays...and he never drove himself.  It seems he always knew who to get a ride with to be the first one here.   The night before the semi-final game at SLUH, I was surprised when Norman showed up at our house with the plans to spend the night.  I think someone else was there as well.....can't say for sure.   I do know that Norman was, though.

I was surprised because this was an important game and the players needed good rest that night.  Norman told me that he was superstitious and that he could not play right unless he ate at our house right before the game.  So, Mark and Norman behaved themselves that Friday night, didn't go out, went to bed early....and in the morning I took them out to breakfast.

In the last minutes of the game, Norman scored a touchdown and we were all off to the dome.  The rest is history.  Somehow, I think superstition helped.

Norman knew Mark was sick.  I once messaged him in the middle of the night...so desperate for someone to talk to.  I was using Mark's phone and later during the day, Norman called back.  I haven't heard from him since Mark died.

Then, Friday, his mom, Tina Turner called us.  She gave me Norman's number.  He now lives in Dallas.  We talked about his teammate/brother and how we both missed him.  Norman told me that he has a new baby son...his first baby.  He told me his baby's name was Tyson.....Tyson CHAMP Weaver.

Mark would be pleased.......and despite what Norman might think, Mark would be saying that Norman named him after himself....that Champ was after him.

Me thinks Tyson Champ Weaver's daddy belives otherwise.

Talking to Norman made me feel that Mark called home for a chat.  It gave me such good feelings as we start on what has been for me the most difficult time of year....Mark's birthday and then the holidays.

But, just hearing the word/name , Champ, makes me remember what a true champion Mark was...both on the football field with his fellow champions.....and how he handled what was handed to him.

Don and I have been busy getting ready for our trip.  Yesterday he got a taste of what "a few errands" entails.  I laughed as he rolled his eyes at the different places I needed to go.  I have done this for years...my days off  running errands and at one point had to cart around two little boys.

We needed to get the routine toiletries we were taking on our trip.  I was reminded of a funny story about Mark and anti-perspirent.   Mark went with Josh Shelton to ride along to Jim Shelton's place of work.  Jim always went on Sundays to load up his van to make deliveries.  Apparently there was a bin of damaged toiletries and Mark and Josh were allowed to pick something out of it.

Mark picked Mennen Speed Stick.

He brought it home and said that it was his.  Now, he was only about 7 years old, and I wondered if he even knew what it was he had.  So, like a good mom, I asked him:  "What do you use that for, Mark/"

"It is so I don't sweat."  He told me about the commerical he saw that it would prevent this.

I asked him where he put it on at.

"I did this" and he demonstrated with the product how he covered his forehead and his face.
"I sweat a lot when I play sports" was his reasoning.  Don and me just laughed at him.  Mark was not pleased.

"Just where are you supposed to put this?"  When Don explained it to him, I don't think he believed his Dad.  I also don't think he ever put it all over his forehead and face again.

This just shows how little things that I encounter, I am always thinking about Mark.  Just shopping for simple everyday items , I stll think of things about Mark.

I have out, ready to pack, Mark's beloved Cardinal jersey.  Don is going to wear Mark's Superman shirt.  We have some little items...including Mark's Grey Goose Vodka, that we are taking.  It is going to be more of a "let's go forward" trip than anything.  We are going to keep Mark and John and his family in the forefront of our thoughts, but at the same time, work on the adjustments that life has given us.

I think Don is fully "retired" now.  We passed a group of construction workers on our errands yesterday, and for the first time he said he really didn't miss work, that he has settled in to being home all the time.  I honestly, other than the extra paycheck, don't know how we got things done at home when he was working.  I have never regretted for one minute the decision for him to stop.  Actually, the decision wasn't ours to make...he physically cannot work anymore.

During our travels yesterday, we stopped and bought Don a MPG3 player.  Now, this is a major thing...I am not sure he even knew what an MPG3 player was.  I loaded it up with the "Mark songs" he wanted, as well as downloaded a book.  It will give him something to do while on the plane, and I am out cold on my medications.

I am looking forward to packing our suitcases over the next week.  Somehow, I just feel that we are on our way to see Mark.  Maybe we can put some of the pain of his birthday behind us.  In the meantime, I will continue to wonder "Just where do you put this" with all the sad feelings, missed chances, that we have experienced.

We will make new Mark stories.

Seems like I have gone quite awhile without seeing any "signs" from Mark.  I look for them everyday.  He told me that all I would have to do is look over my shoulder and I might see him.

Perhaps he knew I would spend the rest of my life looking for him.  It has given me a nice diversion to normal routine things.  There is no part of the day when I am not thinking about him, not looking for something that will tell me that he goes on.  It just isn't in me to think that Mark was here for those 24 years and wasn't supposed to have any impact on me or anyone ever again.

I don't see him as anything any more than what he was to us...a son, a brother, a uncle, a grandson, a cousin, a nephew, a friend.  I so appreciate the messages from his friends that he still is there for them, that they still think about him, still miss him.  Those are things that sustain me....and they always come when I am feeling the weakest.

Over the past week I have spent a lot of time in the car.  I realized this morning that I haven't even been outside that much over the past two weeks, other than being in my car.  I worked extra shifts last week to try and make up the difference in Don not working and trying to stay on top of household finances.  I have spent a lot of time on the computer still working on the various forms that have to be completed for Don's disability.  In fact, while writing this note, I am stopping at every fourth sentence or two to reload the printer as I am copying more forms.   We still have a couple of months to go before we find out if Don's initial application will be approved....or if he has to go through appeals.  Much of the application process is left for me.  Don's hands cramp if he tries to write more than a paragraph or two, so he dictates what he wants on the forms to me, I type them then do a paste-up of the forms, copy them, then he reads them and signs them.  The process itself has been a process.  I think that this morning it will all be ready to fax to Social Security....at least until they send us another form to complete.

Going to work early last week, I again spent my travel time thinking about Mark.  Sometimes I play a game with myself...picking a topic and thinking about it all the way to work.  Sometimes I keep the radio on and see how many consecutive songs will be "Mark messages."  This happened on Friday night as I drove in for an overnight shift.  The songs played one right after another....."Livin' Like I'm Dying"......"Angel"........"Walking in Memphis".   Now, no one can tell me that Mark wasn't pushing the play buttons that night.  I was already crying from "Angel" and when "Walking in Memphis"came on......just too much. 

But, when I drove in Monday evening, I couldn't help but think that I had not had any signs.  Just something small that showed Mark was watching us, that he knows we haven't forgotten him.  Nothing for days.  Now, this s probably going to show how obsessed I can get with this...but I swear it is true.   I just happened to look at the mileage on my car as I passed Bayless driving down Union Road....just passed Indian Hills Swim Club....and the mileage was 61366.  613 for June13th.....66 for Mark's football number.  All week long, I saw the 613 and by Friday night driving to work, it turned over to 61400 as Walking in Memphis was being played.  All week long, I felt Mark was with me.

He was very particular on dates.  I remember him waking Don and me up at 4am on a December morning to tell us "I have been cancer free for a  year now."   I remember he would have yearly (Ok, only one or two) parties in July to celebrate being "done" wth chemo as he had his last chemo day on July 3, 2004 the first go around.  He never ever forgot Shelley's Heaven Day.....and on July 31st of every year, would become quiet, depressed as he remembered this was the day Kevin Houska and Jonathan Hearst were stolen from us.

So, I don't think it is extreme that Mark would use his death date coupled with his football number to tell me hello.

Durng the day on Friday, Don and I took Danny fishing.  We went to the fishing place on Tesson Ferry and then on to Suson Park.  We never caught anything but we had fun.  I was reminded when my Dad took Mark fishing on their birthdays.  We had gone to Shady Valley on Mark's fourth birthday.  Mark insisted on putting the worm on his hook and immediately stuck the hook in his finger.  Right away he said "Damnit!!!"   My father just howled and I  told Mark he shouldn't say "that bad word."  My Dad, always coming to Mark's defense said "Oh, I don't know, Mark....I can't think of anything else that you should say."

We enjoyed this time alone with Danny.  We knew that his brother was going to a friend's that evening and that Daddy would be at the football game.  We made sure Danny had a special day.  yet, that evening, Danny was still out of sorts because Michael was with his friend and doing fun things without Danny.

Years ago, Mark and John were just like Danny and Michael.  Four years apart, they were very close as young boys, but when John turned 12 he started going places and doing things without Mark.  One particular evening John was going to the movies with friends, and Mark was not included.  Mark certainly was out of sorts....complaining that "John got to do everything" and why couldn't he go?  There becomes a huge difference between 8 years old and 12 years old, and we tried to explain that John would be doing things that Mark just wasn't old enough to do.  Mark's response, with his the famous slight speech impediment he had at the time was

"I don't get to do cwap!"  ( I spelled it right....crap came out sounding like cwap)

It has been a tagline in our family for years.  Mark didn't get to do cwap.

Tabby told me the next day that Danny was feeling blue.  Had tears in his eyes, sad face and that bottom lip sticking out...so she offered to take him out to eat.  A date with Mom.  Danny loves Culver's and Tabby suggested they go to Culver's.  Danny had other ideas.

"No, I want to go to Red Lobster."

Before I could even get it out as Tabby told me this story....she commented that this is probably something Uncle Mark would say.  Exactly.  He finally settled on Gingham's....something a little more than Culver's but defintely not Red Lobster.  When I talked to John about all of this, both of us agreed that Danny felt as though he didn't get to do cwap.

Another Mark hit for me, then, last week.

Don and I have started thinking a lot about the cruise we are going on next month.  One month today we will be in the Caribbean.  We will be in Aruba on Mark's birthday.  I have tried the past two of Mark's birthdays in Heaven to do something that would be meaningful on his birthday.  Something to get us through.  But, as I have stated so many times to everyone, Mark's birthday literally kicks me....takes the wind out of me....leaves me very depressed.  I can handle Jue 13th better than his birthday.  On June 13th, I am reminded how sick he was, how he knew he was going to Heaven, and I can cope.  On his birthday....he is supposed to be here.  He is supposed to be answering our questions of "What do you want for your birthday" with costly requests. 

The first birthday...his 25th...was spent with friends remembering at the Blarney Stone.  Last year, we went over the top with birthday presents for Uncle Mark's birthday for the boys.  I worked all day on our little party and when John packed his family in the car all I could do was cry.  I was so depressed.

So, Don and I, despite the economy, despite him not working, took the money we saved all year and are heading to the Caribbean.  I hope we can do this every year.  I won't know if it is going to make things easier, but I think it is the best thing for both of us. 

We have been checking different cruise forums and have found a group that will be on our ship.  There are dragonfly people there.....some even use Dragonfly as their sign on name.  They have told me that there is a restaurant in San Juan called "Dragonfly" and there is a shop in St. John that is called "Dreams and Dragonflies".  Guess where I plan to go. 

Last night, we spent the evening with a very special couple.  I have hesitated to say anything here but I think a lof of people know.  I want this story at least to be recorded so that in coming years I remember the magic.

My mom has been so alone for the past couple of years.  Most of Mark and John's friends count my mom as  their own "Grandma Joyce."  She has been so much a part of both John and Mark's lives.  She adores all of her grandchildren but Mark would have people believe that she loved him the most.  He actually believed this.  Yet, that is how my parents were....making each of their children, each of their grandchildren, believe they were the most important.

Mom liked to tell me that he had told her she would never be alone.  At first, we always thought this meant that he would be around her.  She said that he told her once when he was in Memphis that he would send her someone.

For the past nine months or so, my mom's life has been so happy.  She no longer spends the weekends with Don and me.  I think she has only stayed over here one night in the past nine months.  She has been busy with the someone who came from a very special place.

Last Christmas, there were Angels at work.  Two special Angels....two who are spending a lot of time together.  Teammates, friends.   One friend left...actually I like to say was stolen...from us.  Mark never got over this, and said many times that he looked forward to seeing him again.

Kevin.

The same Kevin whose grandfathr made a beautfiul wooden cross for Mark.  The same wooden cross that I planned on keeping as a reminder that Mark knew he "would see the face of God" and the memories of how Mark missed and grieved the loss of his friend.  Kevin's grandpa didn't know Mark....just made this cross out of the good of his own heart.

"Mom, make sure that cross goes with me, I am going to give it to Kevin."

And as I have said here before, it was the ONLY thing I put in Mark's casket....a promise fulfilled.

So this special grandfather who loved Kevin...and whom Kevin loved in return.....has been keeping Mark's beloved grandmother happy.

A special couple, who have way too much in common.  A special couple, who over the past several years have been to sporting events at the same time, but never met.

No one can tell me that Kevin and Mark didn't have something to do with this.

That, in itself, is a reminder to me that Mark is everywhere.

It has been an uneventful week.  Nothing new really happened, nothing to change anything.

I spent a good deal of time thinking of Mark.  I think about him all of the time, but driving to work Friday night I couldn't help the tears.  I kept thinking of all of the wonderful Fridays I spent without sleep and then staying up late into the night....all because of high school football.

It became my passion because it was such a passion for John and for Mark.  I still really don't understand the "plays" or what each position is supposed to do.  I just know that for a few hours on Friday evenings, many people would gather and cheer on a bunch of teen age boys.  Sure was fun.

I hope that everyone gets as much out of their passion as my boys did. 

I thought about the parents who hopefully were excited that it was game night.  I thoght about the moms and dads who were getting things ready at concession stands.  I loved every minute of it.  I would spend a great deal of time trying to trade off Fridays so that I could be home to cook for the team.  Sometimes, but rarely, I was able to grab a nap during the day.  By the time Mark was on varsity, I had it down to a pretty good system.

I sure do miss those days.  I never had one bit of trouble in all the years that I had 20-30 boys over for dinner on Friday nights.  Each one of them belonged to me.  They would bounce in my house (for some reason...my own sons were never the first ones in) and when they were done, they would lounge around our small home.  Some would take a nap.  Some would do their laundry.  But always, always...when Don would pull up in the driveway with the truck.....they would immediately start helping him unload his work tools and load up the supplies for the concession stand.  Never failed.   They also never left here without thanking me.  Bunch of classy young men.

Those young men make my heart melt also because several years later....scattered throughout St. Louis as well as the country...they came back to us to help us with Mark.  The last people at Mark's bedside outside the family were Mark's teammates.

Now, the house is empty.  The memories are still here and always will be.

The other day, Don and I were reorganizing some.  We cleared out the storage area under the steps and got things in better order.  All that is there are containers filled with Mark's clothes.  There is a huge bag of just his shoes.  Both of commented that we can't let these things go. 

On top of all of these containers remain a clear vinyl clothing bag.  Zipped up inside are Mark's varsity satin football pants and his football shoes.  He refused to return the pants (and yes, I did pay the Athletic Office for them) and refused to let me wash them.  "They have the Jungle in them."  The dirt from the football field from his last game is still there.  I suppose some day my Tabitha will have to clear out that storage area when Don and me are gone....and only then will those pants finally leave this house.

Our lives are so different now.  The house is quiet.  Don no longer has to get things together to go to work.  We are adjusting slowly to living on my paycheck until his disability is settled.  He still has several days a week that he doesn't feel well and his joints are painful, but at least they are not being abused by the hardwork he has done for 37 years.

The one constant, the one dark cloud that hangs over us is that Mark isn't here.  I know we are doing the best that we ever will be.  I know we work hard at adapting to losing him.  I pray everynight that I will dream about him.  I don't have to relinquish anything, because I have always had him in my heart.  It just isn't the same.  It never will be.  There is always someone missing.

The silence of not having Mark around is more deafening than any sound.  The emptiness just never will be filled.

I worry about others forgetting about him, but then I get a card in the mail that reminds me that just isn't the case. 

I love talking to my mom on the phone because rarely a conversation with her happens without Mark being mentioned.  We are usually laughing about what his reaction would be to something. 

Tonight, Don fell asleep early.  I have spent the evening wishing so much that I could call Mark and just chat.

For me, that would have been the ultimate touchdown.

I apprpeciate the note from Kay (not sure which Kay this is!!!) regarding my sister, Debe.  She is doing well and so far her leukemia has been under control.  The type of leukemia she has can stay "quiet" for a long time, or next week blow up in her face.  We will always be on alert for changes for her.  Although perhaps not the only reason I chose not to go to VA....but the main reason...is that I don't know when and if Debe will need me.  I am better at Barnes if that need arises.  Thank you for asking about her.....she is adjusting to no kids in her house right now since her youngest went off to college last week.  I believe at this time that is causing her more turmoil than anything, but she is Debe and is coping well.

Michael has adjusted to school.  Even has a few positive things about it.  I guess the first day of school is a little overwhelming for a first grader. 

I recall getting a call at work about 7am one morning.  I was told "Mark" was on the phone.  "Mom, i have a headache and don't feel well."   My response:  "Mark, it is the SECOND day of school...get dressed and go."  Throughout the years Mark thought of all sorts of things do get out of going to school, but for the most part he did go.   It wasn't until years later that I learned he and John used to give each other "Free Days" from St. Francis.  They would cover for one another, get each other's homework, and go talk to Father Edwin personally to tell them one brother was sick and Mom was too busy at work to call in for them.  They not only pulled one over on Don and me, but Father Edwin as well.  I will have to think about it, but I am pretty sure this qualifies for some sort of sin.

Mark acted as if school existed for one thing only:  to have a pool of people to build sports teams.  Make that two...also a place where he could meet girls.  He met some fabulous girls at school.  There are many times I am down, and I will get a letter, a card, an email or phone call from one of these girls.  They sustain me when I feel the bluest.

Michael also had a wonderful 7th birthday.  Tabby called me the day of his "kid party" and asked if I could pick up some balloons.  I waited for over 45 minutes for the balloons, and then found out they forgot to put the stuff in them to make them last longer.  I was not going to wait another 45 minutes, so they refunded my money for that stuff, and gave me 5 extra balloons.  He had helium balloons everywhere attached to the fence in their backyard.

The next day Don and I went over to John's house.  In our family, birthdays are an event and it was no different for Michael.  His birthday actually lasted 4 days.  Cardinal game on Friday, kid's party on Saturday, family party on Sunday, and then his actual party on Monday.  I noticed when we went over there were no balloons.  I asked how long they lasted without that special stuff.  John said to Michael "Tell granny what happened to your balloons."  Michael then told me he had all his friends help him let the balloons go to Uncle Mark.  A gift for Mark on his nephew's birthday.  It sure warmed my heart.

I always try to think of something special to give as gifts for the boys.  This year I knew I wasn't gonig to be able to come up with something new....until I watched Michael at the Blarney Stone after Uncle Dick's funeral.  He just loved the DeerHunter game at the Stone.  So, I made it my mission to find an original Nintendo game system.  I found one on Ebay from a company that rebuilds them.  Michael loved it, but it is quite possible John loves it more.

I watched as John carefully explained to Michael how to put in the games, how to use the controllers.  I watched as Michael played, and Daniel whined about not getting his turn.  Sure enough, John did for Daniel what he did for Mark 24 years ago.....set up the game for one player and gave Daniel the second controller.  Daniel sat there and played, although he wasn't really playing.  John then put in Mario Brothers and we laughed as we watched his face as he was playing.

John and Mark had a Nintendo.  A couple of weeks before Don and I got up in the attic to see if we still had it.  Markie was only about 4 years old (just like Danny) and always wanted his turn.   John told Daniel the exact same thing I told Mark years ago "Your brother will be in school and you will be able to play all day without anyone stopping you."  Mark and me would get home from taking John to school, and he would head right for the Nintendo.  I got to know the music for Mario Brothers and could tell how far Mark could get.  For days, he struggled through the different levels.  Then, one morning, I heard the music that played when John made it to the undersea level.

I went into the living room, totally amazed that this 4 year old had figured it out.  He was very pleased with himself.  I asked him how he did it and he tried to explain it to me best in his 4 year old vocabulary.  He was sitting on the floor in his pjs.  He showed me how he could "make the guy run" then make him jump.  He showed me how he could make him hop over things.  As he was doing this, his fingers pushing buttons on the controller, his arms would raise up as if he were jumping with Mario.  Then he said "Sometimes it helps if you stand up".  So much jumping of the arms just made him stand up.  I laughed then, and smile now just thinking about it.

I was truly enjoying watching Michael's Uncle Dave and John play Mario Brothers.  The music brought back so many memories.  Finally, the undersea music came on......and I couldn't help but have tears in my eyes.  That was music I associated with Mark.  I am sure Mark was smiling.

Today someone made my day. We received the most beautiful card and it had a dragonfly on it.  No signature and I tried to trace the address but didn't have any luck.  It was so thoughtful, so beautifully written.  "I also wanted to let you know that even after 2+ years later, people you don't know still think and pray for you."  That is such a special gift.  As I have recounted here many times, I just don't want Mark forgotten.  To the person who sent the card.....please know that Don and I have read it over and over again.  I look forward to showing it to John and Tabby.  It will go into our Mark curio cabinet.  Thank you so very very much.

A week or so ago I received a book from Nathan Co'x mom.  He is the young man who also had DSRCT and was a patient of Dr. Tan's.  His mom recently left a message on the guestbook.  Since that time, we have spoken on the telephone and exchanged numerous emails.

The book she sent me was written by a man who lost his 24 year old son in a moutain climbing accident.  It is titled "Lament for a Son."  I don't usually read books of this sort.  I tried to read grief support books after Mark died.  I didn't find them helpful.

I suppose it was because there was so much psychoanalytical crap that went on with a lot of them.  I understand the grief process, the depression, the horrendous sense of loss.  I explored every means to deal with what had been placed in our lives but found little comfort in the misery of others.  I also didn't find to much help in most grief counseling (other than Angel Moms....the one perfect help for me).

What I normally was able to take away from those readings was "That is sad.  That is nice they are trying to help others.....but this book is not about my Mark.  My Mark was special."  I know these people feel that their children were special too.  I just didn't find any help in their long dissertations.

Not wanting this to sound like a book report, I found this book to be different. Short, sweet.  General statements about his son that I have spoken of here.  Some feelings I have never been able to put into words.  No philosophical theories.  Just simple statements from a grieiving father.  What makes it even more interesting is this father is a professor emeritus of philosophical theology at Yale Divinity School.  One would think it would be "preachy"  It is not.

I find myself underlining much of what this man has written.  Some pages are just a paragraph long...but they say so much.  So many of the comments is what I have said here and it gives me something to think about once again.

I will be from time to time, putting down what this man has written and going over again how these statements remind me of my own feelings and thoughts.

At times I feel that I have run out of feelings.  I have run out of things to say.  "It's so wrong, so profoundly wrong, for a child to die before its parents."

Nothing else has to be said......that pretty much says it.  But, this gift from another DSRCT mom, is giving me a chance to think about what has happened, and that maybe Don and I are not much different than what has been written.  We feel certain things that only Angel Parents feel.

I appreciate the gifts....the letter from Lisa, the special dragonfly card that came today, Michael sending his birthday balloons to Mark,  the memories of brothers playing Nintendo....and a book that I could have easily written.

I appreciate the chance to read, think about, pray about, the changes in our life.  I appreciate the gift of a book that validates what I am feeling.

An hour doesn't go by that I am not thinking of Mark, of wishing I could talk to him for just ten more minutes.  I need to spend more time here writing what I feel as that is closest I get. 

Today Michael had his first day of school.  I don't think he enjoyed it very much.  I know it is going to be an adjustment for him, being in first grade and having to stay at school all day.  He doesn't really know the kids that well and had some difficulties finding lunch companions.  Nothing like being at home with Mommy, Danny and Joey.

I think, perhaps, he was a little homesick but doesn't realize all of that just yet.  I just know, in time, he will find his space and enjoy school more.  Maybe it will be better when he knows Daniel will be there in preschool a couple of days a week.  That should make it better.

Just hope day two goes better.

Last week we had another campout in the backyard.  I have no idea how the boys did it, but they talked their Papa into bringing out the little TV so they could watch cartoons in the tent.  Not really camping, now, is it?   Papa's back wouldn't allow him to sleep outside with the boys....but Granny did.  It was a beautiful night.  By ten pm we were all asleep.  Then, Michael woke up around 1am and wanted to go inside.  We woke up Danny and the three of us crawled into the spare bed.  All tucked in and comfortable.

Then, around 430 am I woke up.  I listened to the boys breathing, listened to the sounds of a quiet house, and listened....oh, Sweet Jesus....to the RAIN outside.  I ran outside, at 430am, in my nightie, trying to rescue that darn little TV from the tent.  I didn't like the idea in the first place, and the three who thought it was a grand idea were all nestled asleep inside.  What a mess.  I still don't know if that TV is going to work.

But, what was positive about that night has wrapped me up since.  We didn't have any sleeping bags so Don went inside to find some blankets.  He brought out Mark's heavy bedspread/comforter.  It was perfect.  Mark loved this comforter.  His grandmother bought it for him to use as a bedspread for his Memphis apartment.  He was always wrapped up in it and looked like Yoda during those last months.

I tried to buy him a lighter one during that time.  It was really nice but he didn't like it.  He said it felt like he was sleeping under a placemat.  Back to the heavy comforter.

It has been put away since Mark died.  We have not had it out at all.  But since that rainy campout, I have used it everyday.  I know I have dreamed about Mark since I started using it, just can't remember the content of the dreams.

It is nice, though, to be wrapped up in Mark's comforter.  Something is very comforting to be to be wrapped in something Mark.

 Yesterday there was a posting on the guestbook from someone new.  I never have met this person, never would have recognized the name.  Yet, there was a very special gift given to us one afternoon, and now, I know who it was from.

When Mark first found his very small lump...it was november 2003.  He had surgery in December, and it was another six weeks before we learned that he did not have testicular cancer, but that horrible desmoplastic small round cell tumor (DSRCT).  I remember the oncologist from Barnes who called us that terrible January evening and said "I have heard of this, but have never treated it."

Where does one go from there?

I know what Mark did.  He quickly decided to get out of town.  At first he was going to go to the Caribbean (hence, the reason Don and I are so drawn there) but we talked him out of it.  We decided that he shouldn't be out of the country.  Mark quickly talked two of his friends in to going to Las Vegas, and within days he was in Vegas.  He had a marvelous time.

Back home in St. Louis, things were different.  Don and I spent days on the telephone.  There were several people helping us try and find someone who could help Mark.  We had literally five scheduled appointments with oncologists throughout the country....Houston, New York, Arizona, Minnesota, and Los Angeles.  We were so overwhelmed it was incredible.  I cannot recall being so exhausted.  Phone call after phone call.  Each having their own perspective, each thinking they could help Mark.  We just didn't know where to turn.

We weren't trying to find a great deal on a car for him.....we were trying to save his life.

We planned a trip to Mayo Clinic.  Mark asked where the Mayo Clinic was and when we told him it was in Minnesota, he said "Damn!  I am going to freeze my ball off there!!"  It was so funny.  He told us that what we should do is just put his name on Ebay and let the top bidding oncologist treat him.  Sounded like a good idea.

So, we were planning to go to Minnesota....or maybe it was New York....or could have been Houston.  Anyway, I get a call from his Aunt Deb from work.  She had been talking to a doctor in Children's ER and they immediately   decided that Mark should be treated at Children's.  There is so much more to this but isn't really important for this post....let's just say that we finally had someone in town who knew DSRCT.

I had to call the administrator of the hospital and ask for Mark to be treated there.  He was 21 and too old for Children's, yet his cancer was so rare and considered to be an adolescent cancer, that they immediately made arrangements for him.  The adminsitrator called me back and gave me our appointment time.  Finally, everything was set.

Then the weekend passed and Monday this VP of Children's calls me again.  She said she was calling me as a mom, not an administrator.  She said that Mark could be treated at Children's, but she so happened to be at dinner party over the weekend and was able to find an oncologist in the adult setting that we may want to see.  She had set an appointment for Mark, just in case.

How did she find this new oncologist?  She had been talking about Mark and the rare cancer he had....at this dinner party.....to Dr. Tan's wife.  When Dr. Tan's wife said he had treated this cancer, a connection was made.  I think that in itself is pretty magic.

One just can't go to the Yellow Pages and look up "DSRCT" doctors. 

I remember I started crying, saying what are we supposed to do?  She told me to see both, and to go to the other cities if we felt it necessary.  She only wanted to give us more options....again "I am not doing this as an administrator, I am doing this as one mom to another."

We saw the pediatirc oncologist.  I appreciated so much the efforts and time the oncology staff at Children's did for us.  The oncologist was blunt, told us we had less than 18 months, and not to waste time having Mark doing any sperm banking.  We left there devastated.

We had an hour or so in between appointments.  We took Mark to Tom's Grill in the Central West End.  Mark told us "I am going to sell my car, I won't be able to keep up the payments."  We wanted to dispel any of the traumatic news that Dr. Hayashi had given us.  We wanted somehow, some way to give him hope.  Both Don and I told him to forget about selling his car, he was going to need it when he got better.  I don't think it made Mark feel any better.  I know that he knew we were just grasping at straws....that the only way it would be any better if some doctor told him differently, or someone gave him some sort of hope.  We weren't happy with the pediatric aspect....the little bald kids really bothered the three of us.  If only we could find someone who could show us some sort of confidence in treating Mark.  Someone who knew what he had.

We went then to see Dr. Tan.  His perspecitive was very hopeful.  He had a different approach to treating Mark.  Whereas Children's wanted to open up Mark's belly and remove I don't know what  ( he had NO tumors...no visible cancer anywhere), Dr. Tan wanted to start chemo right away.  Then, he told us something that gave us hope.

"I have treated this before.  We have had some very favorable results with a gentleman from Montana.  His disease is not where yours is.....he came in with large tumors and having a great deal of pain.  You, Mark, have no evidence of disease.  I feel that by giving you chemo now, in the pristine position you are in, that we can try and keep those tumors away.  I would like to start as soon as possible....but I won't start until you are able to do sperm banking."

So much hope.  Dr. Tah had in a very short time, given us a treatment plan that included preventing tumors, but also giving Mark something to plan for the future.  I remember thinking that if he had helped this gentleman from Montana...that he had confidence that he could help Mark.  Dr. Tan and Don and me, left the decision totally up to Mark.

"Let's get going," was Mark's response.

I heard Mark say a number of times how Dr. Tan had experience with DSRCT.  I know part of Mark's faith in his treatment was his faith in his doctor....and he had faith in his doctor because of this person from Montana.

I had often wondered where Dr. Tan met this person from Montana.  Did he practice for a time there?  Did this person hear about Dr. Tan and come to St. Louis?

And then, finally, yesterday, those questions were answered with a posting on the Mark's guestbook.

The "gentleman" from Montana was Nathan.  Today, is the anniversary of Nathan's death.

It pains my heart, not only because I know the hurt his family is feeling today, but also because the first person who instilled hope in us and in Mark....is not here for us to thank.

After reading the post, I immediately sent an email off to his mother.  Don and I scanned the Internet trying to find out how old Nathan was, what he looked like.  After a few searches, we found a beautiful picture of a 22, 23 year old young man.  http://www.landforlearning.org/Scholarships.htm  Scroll down to the bottom of the page to see the "gentleman from Montana" who gave us the gift of hope, gift of confidence.

Think of Nathan's family today.

The past couple of weeks there have been some changes in our house.

The day after Don and me booked our Mark Birthday Cruise, he was laid off.  Actually, it didn't matter too much because in all actuality, Don was done.

He has been struggling with rheumatoid arthritis since Mark had moved to Memphis.  There have been numerous injections, trips to the ER, MRI's, surgeries and medication.  One of the medications Don takes every week is methotrexate.  This is actually a cancer chemotherapy drug.  It was discovered that people who were being treated for cancer and took this drug....their rhematoid got better.

Don started taking it in 2005.  I would talk with Mark frequently about how his Dad was doing, and Mark felt compelled to come back to St. Louis.  He was worried about his dad...and one night called me to ask  "Mom, I was just wondering if Dad's hair started to fall out from that chemo drug."

"No....your dad has been losing his hair long before he took methotrexate!"  Mark thought that was funny.

All the treatments are supposed to help with slowing down the disease and helping with the pain.  They have helped some, but over the past year it has been much worse.  Don's hips, ankles and back hurt more than they ever have.  He has had to take medication and pain medication daily.  His hands get swollen and they lock up.   He has trouble even holding a pen long enough to fill out some forms.

For a person with a desk job, he probably could keep working.  For someone who is a bricklayer, it is impossible.

So after over 35 years of laying brick, Don is done.  Even if he wanted to continue to work, he wouldn't be able to do the job anymore.  We have started proceedings for him to get disability.  This is going to take literally weeks, months, possibly even a year or two.  But it is time, he is done.

It will be a little difficult for us.  Perhaps we never should have registered for this trip.....but something deep inside tells me Mark would want this for us.  I know John and Tabitha are glad we are going, despite the expense.  I will just work extra when I can.

I know that while Mark was sick those last six months, it was so hard for Don to get up in the morning.  Some days he could hardly move when he came home.  He kept working so that we would have insurance for Mark.  He thought about stopping after Mark died, but felt that he was still able to work.

No more.

This starts a new era for us.  It is a change that we can live with.