Now our family holidays can really begin.

Looking back over the past couple of years of writing here, it is easy to see how every year at this time I begin to falter.  It doesn't take much to make me really sad, feel really empty.  This year is no different than others.

Then, something happens every year that lifts not only my spirits, but those of Don and John as well.

Without even attending the Varsity Footbal Banquet, the day after, I can sense that something special has happened.  It is somewhat all about Mark, somewhat all about us....but absolutely all about a Mehlville Panther football player.

Last evening, Brandon Zufall was awarded this year's Mark DeWalle Courageous Heart Medal.

My heart is soaring.

I know that the football coaches probably cringed from the years 1992-2001 whenever Mama DeWalle would talk about the "softer side of football."  Even then, I knew there was something special about the football program at Mehlville.  So many special people we met during those years.  So many special moments.

I know that those moments have been shared by countless parents.  I know that feeling of watching your son work hard towards a goal, go into the battle with his friends, and have a special bond that I think only exists in special circumstances.

Typical awards given out at banquets and post season Conference and District honors have always been a big deal in this house.  The award that doesn't necessarily show itself in team statistics is the one I think will stay forever.   I can't see the MVP, the best linebacker, the record setting yards rushed....still being able to be awarded to the same person ten, twenty years later.   Age, weight, not working physically out everyday will soon take their toll. They are awesome awards, something to be proud of...but understanding the spirit of the game, the importance of team bonds, and promises made to oneself and others will be as strong 20 years from now.  Not much can change spirit. 

As in past years, we knew when the award was going to be presented.  Both Don and I were wondering who was going to receive it, and as in past years, were not told until the night of the banquet.  (Oh, and the work involved in that banquet....KUDOS to the parents, the coaches that planned this event last night...so much work, but a highlight of the year for football players and their families.  I always wanted it perfect).

The decision as who will get the award is left to the coaches and teachers of Mehlville.  Don and I have never "put our two cents in" as the award is not about our family, not so much about Mark...but about the player himself.  We just know that the player receiving it suddenly becomes a very special part of our family. 

Mark loved us.  He loved his friends.  He loved golf.  But one thing I know Mark loved more than anything else, was Mehlville Football.  Those years he watched his brother played, standing on the track at endzones all over St. Louis to catch PATs......the time he told Coach Heyde when he was still in 6th grade "You will win State when I am a junior"...getting his varsity satins and becoming a two way player from Sophomore year on, the State years...his allegiance, love and honor of his teammates and of the game.....that was Mark's core.

I also remember that one of Mark's last thoughts were with football.  The story has often been repeated and remains one of the highlights of my life.  He wanted to see Coach Heyde and at nearly midnight June 12th, Coach came over after being called so late in the evening by one of Mark's friends, Scott Pope.  Wearing oxygen, weakened, Mark asked Coach if he had let him down.....let him down by stopping chemo.  Knowing through Coach that he had not let his beloved Coach down, and hence, kept the honor as well for his teammates, Mark was able to let go.  He prayed with his brother, asked me for medication...and when I told him that giving him medication he might stop breathing....Mark said to me...the last thing he ever said..."It's ok, Mom, I am ready to go."   He died six hours later.

The Mark DeWalle Courageous Heart Medal isn't about dying of cancer, it isn't about a young boy who loved Mehlville Football, it wasn't about the player who to this day holds the most consecutive varsity starts in Mehlville history.......it is about that "softer side of football" where honor, love and loyalty to oneself, the game and fellow teammates, the earned respect of coaches and mentors.......those intangible qualities that don't show up in team or even personal stats.

It is so fitting that the Mehlville coaches present this award.  Head Coach Eric Meyer was not only a coach, but a friend of Mark's.  Both he and Kellie were at our home several times during Mark's last weeks.  Their gifts of friendship is something we cherish.  Coach Gegg read the prayer interventions at Mark's funeral.  Coach Ghormley and his family helped out tremendously with fund raisers.  And Coach Futrell.....he was Mark's true brother by another mother....anything else would get too emotional for me and Coach Futrell knows that.

The decision regarding this award then is made by a group of people who not only knew Mark's story, but was a very important part of.  It isn't an award that has lost meaning for the coaches.  Mark loved them and I know that the decision they made was not made without careful thought and consideration.

We are so proud that Brandon Zufall is this year's recipient.  In coming years, some of the things associated with his years in Mehlville football will fade.  For Brandon, and his parents, one thing is certain:  that his dedication to himself, his personal and team goals, his allegiance to his teammates, and the respect he earned from his teammates, teachers, and coaches is something that did not go unnoticed.

After working last night, I slept all day.  I checked my email before getting ready to go to work this evening, and received and email from Brandon's dad.  It warmed my heart, made me happy.  I know that parents want their children to be noticed for their accomplishments, known for their values, remembered for their individuality, respected by their peers and mentors.  I know that Mark's award has provided Brandon and his family with all of this.

As soon as I can get a picture, I will post one of Brandon.

Take it and run with it, Brandon.  We will forever be your cheering section.  Keep that spirit alive in whatever you do.....and you will not only be successful, but also that person who others see have that special quality.

Find that in the stat books.

I really appreciate the postings made by Mary, Chris, Lindsay, Kay and Tracy.  Yes, have been in a little funk over the past couple of months.  Some of it I am sure is just the holidays...some from some trials that I am going through.  Having people take the time to let me know some things are OK,  sad feelings are normal, and that there is no rule book concerning our grief has been helpful.

I signed for another year here.

I know that my family rarely, if ever reads this....but I have learned that people who consider themselves friends of Mark's do...whether they were his friends while he was here or have become friends since he left.  I actually believe that these are the people that give me an outlet...not this website.

I miss Mark every single minute, of every single day.  I think about what he would think of the changes that have happened in his world since he died.  The friends that have married, the babies that have been born.  I spend almost every moment thinking about what he would think about certain things.

Perhaps for some, it isn't a "good" thing to do.  But I find immense pleasure in remembering every little moment of his life.  I love thinking how he may react to certain things.  I know very little of smart phones....but I am sure he would have been all over it.

Over the weekend, John got in our attic to help us clear some things out.  I found another bag of Mark's clothes.  I saved a few items, gave John the camouflage pants that he and Mark bought for paintballing....but donated the rest to Goodwill.

That is considered healthy by some....but for me it was difficult.  I am hoping that someone will find enjoyment in Mark's things.  It is just very hard to let go and continue on.

I know that there are some that feel Don and me are way overdue of putting Mark in a special place and not have him take up so much of our thoughts, our time.  But, when there is not much to do, not much energy to do anything....one resorts back to their memories to pass the time.

As a result, I have made some outwardly changes to ease those that may have issues with how Don and me feel.  I feel bad that perhaps I have made others uncomfortable with my dragonflies, etc. 

I limit myself now to only three Mark comments a day.  I try and keep track and I am sure there are days I say his name more than once.  But, I have made a concerted effort to reduce it.  This doesn't mean that I don't think about him constantly and the experiences we had with Mark.  I also don't count any of the times (and they are fairly frequent) that I make comments to Don.  I also don't count the times (not as frequent) that others make about Mark.....if they bring him up...that's a freebie to me.

Do I like this?  No. No. NO.  But I also don't like that some others may be uneasy over my "constant" Mark talk.  It makes me mad.....but they cannot take away my thoughts and if I want to sit quietly....then I am alone with my Mark thoughts and that is fine with me.

I bought a new Christmas tree Saturday and threw out my Heaven tree.  It was pretty sad looking...but I want to make efforts to de-Mark some things..and this was an easy way for me.  I didn't like the tree that much anyway.  It was a tree I bought very cheaply to get me through the first couple of Christmases.  I am still using the dragonfly ornaments....but it looks more like a Christmas tree now.

At least, I am trying outwardly.  Like I said...inwardly nothing changes.

It makes me feel sad that I feel others think it is time for me to move on.  It is something I just can't do and one of the reasons I don't post here often.  I can't move on.  I don't want to move on.  But maybe if I do little things to make it seem otherwise, people will think I have. 

They won't know the truth unless they read it here. 

For those who do read these things here....thank you for allowing me to continue.  As long as my fingers can type, I will continue to not only think about Mark, but put those thoughts down.

Others may feel it less, may think it less, maybe even forget.

I never will.

Another long boring day. Only thing different is that I will be working today, so the naps actually have a purpose today.

I appreciate the comments made on the guestbook page regarding whether or not to keep this website going.  I really appreciated the phone call from Mandy .... seems she always knows when to call and check on us.

Per the phone call with Mandy....who I was able to explain everything to....and the guestbook messages, I will at least try to keep it going for a while longer.  I need some time to sort my thoughts and Mandy is right....if I stop.....evil wins.


I am finding the coming holidays with me in a continuous low mood.  I have learned that time doesn't make it easier.....even harder because others don't want to be bothered, hear, remember, whatever of why one's holidays aren't the same.

Just wish I had reason to get excited about the holidays.  For the first time in a very long time, I will be awake and off work on Thanksgiving.  I put up my Thanksgiving decorations after Don did some searching in the attic and the garage for them.  I am doing what I can.....just wish the hoidays weren't coming.

At any rate, should have lots of time to post that day!!!!

I last posted on the 19th and had plans, notes for the next blog as there were things I wanted to say. 

All that really needs to be said is that I felt real bad that I had to work on the 19th.  I called my dear friend Lois...and wished her a happy day.  It was Jimmy's birthday and Lois and Jim spend every one of his birthdays making a big turkey dinner celebration.  I have gone a couple of times and usually try and schedule myself accordingly.  This year things just didn't work out workwise and I felt bad for her.  I know what that day means.  It also happens to be the same date that my dad died....and my dad loved little Jimmy Brockmeyer.  It makes it doubly special.


An angel mom never goes two minutes without thinking about the child.....true child or adult child...and the memories made during that persons childhood and football years and golf years....etc. etc.  Not one minute.

I have come to realize nearly everybody has put Mark in a place....to take out and remember on their own good time.  I suppose that it is some form of healing for them.  It will never happen for me.  Mark will never be put anywhere but in the forefront of my thoughts. 

I have come to realize that dragonflies for some are a nuisance of sorts.  I assure you I did not set out to find a symbol or some cutesy thing to collect in the name of Mark.  There is of course, a dragonfly story that started things out...but for me it has evolved into something more.  For one, they are in the shape of a cross..and remind me of Mark telling me he was a believer in Jesus Christ and what ever happened, he was going to Heaven and "win either way."

Secondly, so many people have come to associate dragonflies with me, with Mark...that when they see them, they are compelled to tell me about it.  It is my "hello" from him.  For those who are disturbed by this....all I can say is find something else to bother you. This is not going away.

The dragonflies always have been a source of comfort for me...not ever intended for anyone else.  I will still use them as certain signatures, as in my quilts.  There won't be anymore dragonfly nights, dragonfly birthday, wedding, Christmas cards.

There are very few dragonflies I have (and I have a lot!!) that I have bought myself.  The most beautiful one is the one hanging in my living room window that Don bought me for my birthday. Yes, he too sometimes make a face over my dragonflies.....and I finally told him last spring not to make any comments about dragonflies anymore...they make me happy.  I think he bought that for me because he finally understood the meaning it had for me.

 A very special one was drawn by a 5 year old boy who is very special to me....it has been hanging up in my sewing room for the past four years and will stay there until I can no longer see it. 

Most of the ones I have...have been given to me.  Three in my kitchen were given to me by three of my Angel Moms on three different occasions.  I suppose they wouldn't bring but a few pennies at an auction....but for me they are worth millions. When I am down (and if you haven't figured it out yet, that is where I am)...I look at those dragonflies from Gwen (too countless from her to mention), Christine and of course Lois...and know they are sending me hugs in the middle of the night.  Just as I never tire of their stories, they never tire of mine.  They are even all the more special because Mark knew all of their angels and they all were strong impacts on my life.

Don must have gone to the cemetery while I was asleep one day last week. I found in the back of my car the marker and cross from Mark's grave.  A couple of times a year we have to remove everything per cemetery rules.  Doesn't matter...for me he really isn't there.  He is always here or whever Don and me happen to be.  He has never left.

There was more, much more written here at this time.  I have deleted it.  I need to think long and hard whether or not to continue this website.  If I have to go back and edit my thoughts, perhaps I shouldn't be putting them here any longer. 

Will think about that for awhile and make a decision soon.

Yes, I meant to write comet..not comment.

On October 6, 1982 Mark was born.  I watched the rain..lots of rain...from my hospital bed at Deaconess and saw Highway 40 bumper to bumper for hours.  People going to Busch Stadium...then people coming back from Busch Stadium after the game was called.

I went home on Saturday. That evening, after the family and friends had left, I took a much needed nap.  Mark sat in his pumpkin seat on the kitchen table and watched the playoff game with his Dad.

Mark's first World Series events came the week he was born.  Ken and Mae Schnurbusch went to one of the games and got Mark a program.  I still have it packed away.

There were a couple of Cardinal World Series.  I remember dropping a 3 year old boy off at his Aunt Katie's so that Don, John and me could enjoy a WS game at Busch...compliments of Grandma Joyce sleeping on the sidewalk.  Mark didn't get to go but he watched the game with his Aunt Katie.

Whenever there were playoffs.....Mark would try everything he could do to get to the game.

In the spring of 2005, he came home from Memphis during the week specifically to go to a Cardinal's game.  Michael and Danny were at the house, and Mark spent the morning playing with Michael...then announced that he had to go to the baseball game.  "Watch for me on TV!!" he told Michael.  He dressed in his Cardinal jersey...and off he went.

I put on the TV to hear the game and went into our TV room...finding Michael inches from the television.  When I asked what he was doing he said "I am watching Uncle Mark play baseball."  He thought Mark was one of the Cardinals and Mark never let him believe otherwise.

Mark's last WS season....2006.  He was living back at home and loving every single minute of being in St. Louis.  He went to the last game....didn't have tickets....but was outside Busch Stadium.  After attending a Marcus Engel book opening.....his Aunt Debe met up with Mark and his friends.  I think Debe drove a couple of excited drunks home that night.  Some of my most favorite pictures of Mark were taken that night. 

I commented to him the next day that it must have really been "fun" having his aunt with him.  "She is a LOT of fun, Mom.  We had a really good time."

When I called Debe on December 27, 2006 to tell her Mark's cancer was back and that I needed her and Katie's help in breaking the news to my mom, the first thing she said was "I am so glad I had that night with him."  I know Mark felt the same way.

So, when the Cardinals won the other night over the Brewers (the same team that they played against in the WS in 1982)....I felt somewhat down.  My first world series without Mark.....and how he loved his Cardinals.

I like to the Cardinals in the World Series like Hailey's comet......a win in 1982 the month he was born....then no win until 2006....Mark's last full Cardinal season.

Something tells me he is back in town.

I only say on Mark's birthday how old he would have been.  Today that would be 29....but in my heart, in my mind, he is always 24.

This morning Don and I went to 6am Mass.  Wasn't sure if we would make it but Don set the alarm and woke me up.  It was dark when we went into the church, and dark when we came out.  A quick, typical 6am Mass...short, sweet, and to the point.  For the first time attending a "Mark Mass"....I didn't cry.

Don and I went out to breakfast, then came home and answered some emails.  I took a nice nap, and Don watched TV.  We spent a little time outside, then got ready to go to Mehlville to watch the freshmen play...but not before we made a couple of stops.

First, we picked up some balloons we had ordered for the boys to let go to Mark, then we went to the cemetery.  Don and me tied a birthday balloon to the wooden cross on his grave and again, I thought about the day he was born.  One of the best days in our lives....only one other day matches it and that is the day John was born.

We went over to John's house and waited for Daniel and Michael to get home from school.  Everyone piled in my car and we went to the game.  It was the first football game Joey had ever been to and he quickly learned the finer points of the concession stand.

It also didn't take long for Joey to spot his Daddy.  The boys kept waving until they finally got John's attention and he waved back.  The next best thing for me to watching John play football  (through that memory video I have in my head) is watching John coach football.  I love watching him on the sidelines interact with his players.  I kept thinking back on his football days...some of the most wonderful times we had.  I also thought of his brother....and how I wished his brother was here enjoying watching him, being proud of him.

Less than 5 minutes after thinking this I heard someone call me.....and saw a handsome young gentleman coming towards Don and me.  He had on a state semifinal pullover jacket that all of MY Panthers got a their Varsity banquets.  I honestly would never have recognized him...and then I saw his name on his jacket...Deonte......and immediately my heart melted.  One of John's teammates....one of his brothers.  One of MY boys.

I was so glad to see him.  Deonte always was one of my favorites and I proudly introduced him to John's boys.  Deonte told me he has four....FOUR!!! kids...two girls, two boys.  I told him that this was a special day....and he already knew it.  We laughed about the pregame meal that it was so cold outside, that after they had finished eating, all got into the drawer downstairs with Don's long underwear.  Deonte scored a couple of touchdowns that night...wearing Don's long underwear.  I reminded him that I could still see him running in those white football shoes of his.  I was pleased he was a strong family man, had a good job, and seemed very happy, content, successful.  Makes a mother...albeit team mother....proud.

The first time I met Deonte was on that day years ago when John brought a few....four I think, players home for lunch.  Deonte sat at my kitchen table after eating hamburgers that Mark had fixed.  Markie was cooking as fast as he can and it was that day, that instant, that I know Mark saw the companionship, the special teammate bond that John had with his teammates.  I know that is probably the start of Mark's football career....starting as a cook for a very special group of boys that I will think about, love, until the day I die.

But back to Deonte at my kitchen table.  He quietly, very politely, asked if me "Can we come back again?"  It was with Deonte that we set up the next lunch date.  When that day came....the entire team came over.....and the rest is pretty much history regarding the DeWalles and Panther football.

I thought about all of this while looking at that handsome man sitting with Don and me.  Just minutes before I had been thinking about brothers and how cheated I felt John had been losing Mark.   It had been years since I had seen Deonte.....and here he shows up minutes after I had been having these thoughts......the Panther that really started the DeWalle Panther pregame meals.

I also realized that although John has lost his brother, Mark.....he still has brothers that are there for him.  Deonte had not been back to Mehlville in years...yet it was at this moment, on this day...that he was there.

I watched as half-time was starting, Deonte run down on the sidelines and he and John hug one another.

I like to think it was Mark making this happen. 

I found it also a little magical the final score of the game was 24-0.  I am an angel mom and I have carte blanche in looking for signs.  For me, this was Mark telling us hi....and that he was at the game.  24 years old....forever.   24-0.  24 and holding.

Once again, a little bit of magic happens for me at the Mehlville footbal field.

I haven't posted here in a long while...last time right at Dragonfly Night.  There are just a couple of reasons why I haven't.

First, I just can't get used to this laptop keyboard.  Seems everytime I type, it skips or deletes because I touch that stupid laptop finger control mouse.  I have tried to dismantle it, just doesn't work.  The past day or two...either I am getting better, or the kinks have finally worked themselves out.

Second, I have spent the better part of the past year making a quilt for Mick and Kyla as a wedding gift.  I worked on it every single day and it was all done by hand.  If you want to see the finished work..go here:  Mick and Kyla's quilt  . I took one of Mark's shirts and made strips of it which I sewed inside the batting in parts of it.  I also quilted nearly 100 dragonflies in the border of the quilt.

Mark and Mick were closer than cousins....maybe the made up word "brosouins" is better.  One was light, one was dark; one was ying, the other yang.  They were three weeks apart, and almost everything that Mark did, somehow or other Mick was there. 

Mick's wedding was one of those top ten events which I knew was going to be stressful for me.  Last year, when they announced their wedding date, I couldn't think or talk about it without crying.  I was very very worried how the day would go.  I decided in October that I needed to do something.  I always realized this was Mick and Kyla's day, not Mark's......but I knew it was one wedding for sure (as well as his other cousins) that Mark would be so excited about.
So, I spent the past year sewing every night.  I would use the time to think about Mark and Mick and pray for them both.  When I turned the quilt over to Mick and Kyla....I felt like a big part of Mark had been given to them.

The wedding was beautiful....Kyla was stunning, Mick so handsome.  Danny was their ringbearer and Michael handed out programs.  I watched Tabby and John dance at the wedding and was so proud to see them together dancing.

Don and me only danced one dance.  We had more fun watching everyone else.  I think the desire to dance was taken away from us when Mark died...neither one of us really feel like dancing anymore.

Jeff gave a fabulous Best Man speech and mentioned Mark.  I was very surprised...and it made Don and me feel really good to hear people clap and cheer at Mark's names...our family, the Amelung family, and all of Mick's friends...a good many of them friends of Mark's as well.  I got a chance to hug those guys that came to Mark's side....Tribl, Schou, Hassler, Gilb.

In many of the flowers were tiny dragonflies.  How kind that was of Mick and Kyla to do that.....I know it was for Mark and for Don, John and me......and the thoughtfulness did not go unnoticed.

For the past two years, on this night, we sailed into Aruba.  Not so this year....finances just wouldn't allow it.  So, for the first time in two years we are spending Mark's birthday tomorrow at home.  Three years ago it was very very hard.  I am hoping that even though it is bittersweet, that we are in a better place.  There will be tears, I am sure.  I have learned that it is best not for me to work at certain points in the year....Dragonfly week, and mostly this week.

We spent the day getting our flu shots, picking up Don's medicine....then going to the Zoo with Joey.  We saw monkeys, baby goats, tigers, lion, bears, ducks and rode the choo-choo.  Just as good as sailing into Aruba.

I plan on resuming my blogs here.  I better...they doubled the monthly rates for it but I just can't let this website go.  It gives me peace, helps me get my thoughts in order....just like it did in 2007 and just how Mick's quilt helped me this past year.

One important thing I have realized over the past couple of months.  Taking into consideration all of the souls that have existed, do exist, will exist....God chose me to be Mark's mom out of all of those people.  For that, I won the lottery, and I am blessed.  That in itself, gives me some peace.

I noticed that we are about 32 "hits" to this site to reach 100,000.  It would be just so cool to hit that number for his birthday.

To all Mark's friends, to all of those he touched, he loved and to all of those that drop by here from time to time, please know it is not this website, not a quilt, not anything but your support that has helped our family.  We know he loved his friends, his cousins, his family and hearing from them from time to time helps us so much.  We feel your hugs.

For tomorrow.....we may go to 6am Mass at St. Francis.  I thought sure I had requested the 8am Mass but at least this time it is listed (unlike Dragonfly Night).  We plan on going to Mehlville High School to watch the freshman football team (coached by brother John!!), then after the game Don and me are going to go to Blarney Stone.  It looks different....but it is still the Blarney Stone and we can't think of a better place to go on Mark's birthday.

We are getting close.....both to 100,000 and to getting through Mark's birthday without too many tears.  Tomorrow will tell us if both will happen.

Dragonfly Night is cancelled.  Don and I will be home and John and his family will be here.....so we will be here if anyone happens to come by.  Just couldn't tell how many, if any were coming, so we will be doing it a little low-key...but always open for visitors!!!

Oh,yes...having periods of tearfulness this week.  Those kind of tears that are underlying very sad....but more bittersweet.

Dragonfly Night....wasn't sure what to do then I stopped by John's and Michael is making decorations for Dragonfly Night.  He even knows what it is all about.

So, Sunday evening from 5pm on.....we will be home with a taco bar and making Margaritas with Tabby's new machine.....and remembering.  

It will help those bittersweet feelings if those that remember the magic of four years ago would like to stop by and join us.

Can’t  sleep.  It could be because Don let me take an extended nap on Sunday afternoon because this allergy/cold I have had seemed to come back for the day.  Then, again, it could be because I have been spending a lot of time thinking about what went on in this house four years ago this week.

It is too hard for me right now to scroll back on this website and look at the archives of June 2007.  Both Don and I have mentioned every couple of days….”this is the day Tony Bernil flew in from Memphis and sat at Mark’s bedside all night….” Or that “this is the day that John and Tabby stayed all night.”  Just too hard.

I keep trying to concentrate on the comment Mark made that one Memorial Day evening.  “I don’t want to be remembered as the guy who died from cancer.  I know that we as well as his friends remember Mark for his love of sports, his love for his friends, and the special bond he had with his brother.

Michael and Daniel seem to love to constantly be at each other’s throats.  One finds the other annoying, and that brother returns it back as quick as he can.  One night last week, they all came over for dinner.  Daniel had asked a couple of weeks before if he could spend the night here all by himself…..and Don and me immediately thought it was a good idea.   It would give us time to concentrate on just one…and give the other some alone time (after Joey went to sleep) with their parents.  As usual, the two of them kept the brotherly barbs flying even through dinner.  I told them to stop it many times.  Finally, it seemed to cease.  There was almost a peacefulness.  Then, it came time for everyone to leave but Daniel.  I told Michael to hug his brother goodbye….and reluctantly he did.  Daniel immediately commented “ When Michael hugged me, I farted.”  So much for Granny’s words regarding brotherly love.

I asked John if he remembered Mark and he irritating one another when they were little.  He did.  I know when John started going out with friends, Mark was totally out of sorts.  He didn’t get to do “cwap.”  I know they had physical fights…nothing extreme…but what I remember most was the comments they threw back at one another.  Just like Michael and Daniel……almost identical personalities to John and Mark….John found Mark increasingly annoying.

Yet, even in those days, they had a that existed with no one else.  They supported one another, and I know for a fact that Mark simply idolized John.  He liked to act he was annoyed with John, but in reality he was in awe of him.

I remember vividly Mark’s first round of chemo in 2004.  He acted like he wanted no one around, and after spending the day with him at the hospital, I finally figured out he wanted to be left alone.  I wasn’t home five minutes when he called me back and said that he wanted his books for a class he was taking online.  I jumped back in the car with a suitcase for me, and books for him.  He never even looked at the books.

He wasn’t talkative..he just wanted someone there.  Then, around midnight, I saw he was crying.  “I don’t want to do this , Mom.”  And truly, that was the ONLY time I ever heard words of discouragement from him.  We talked a bit and finally I asked him what I could do.

Tearfully, he said “Call John.  I need him here.”

John was there within record time.  I met him outside of the hospital and tried to explain Mark’s frame of mind.  I had asked Mark if he wanted me to call his dad….no, just John.

For most of the rest of the night, I stayed out of the room.  I never knew what they talked about and I don’t  think I ever asked.  I just knew that when the chips were down, John was the one that he wanted.

It has been a week of remembering and also of understanding that things do move forward, whether  I want them to or not.

Weddings seem to be the thing right now.  In the past two weeks, I have worked on planning a shower for  Cousin Mick’s fiancée, Kyla; received two save-the-dates for  two of Mark’s friends (our sweet Little Michelle and also Mark’s good friend, Eric Williams), tried to rework, without success, travel arrangements for Lisa’s wedding, and well wished another cousin, Nathan on his engagement. 

That is six weddings, all that Mark would have been so excited over, that will occur over the next year or

I was so looking forward to Lisa’ wedding.  Because I am the worst travel companion on the highways, Don and me decided that we would take the train to Chicago for Lisa’s wedding.  I have reserved the hotel and have the train tickets since March.  Last week I got an email that the train to Chicago is just fine….but coming home we have to take the bus from Champaign, Illinois.  That would never work….we were coming home Father’s Day, which happens to be Don’s birthday this year.  Not a good way to spend the day…on a bus.

I checked out airline tickets for one way…..but just too costly since it is so soon.  Driving, both Don and me agreed, is out of the question.  We don’t know the city of Chicago that well and with me jumping every three miles and worried about traffic…we would be arguing by the time we got there if drove.  I called Lisa to make sure she could take us out of the count and was relieved when I learned she had not turned in the final count.  I hate that I won’t see her get married, but I know in reality if Mark were here, we would probably not have been invited.  I guess Mark is going to try and make a showing in some manner…I know he wouldn’t miss seeing Lisa get married.  I hope she and Jarryd  will feel the love and thoughts and prayers coming their way.

I am sitting here very early just like I did four years ago.  I am thinking about Mark, his brother, his nephews, his friends.

Only difference is that I can’t go into his room and sit and watch him, and give him a hug.

I hate this time of year.

Two, count them, two posts in one day.

It was a wonderful Mother's Day.  Don and I spent the morning trying to decide what to do about our gazebo.  We got it for a song shortly after Mark left us.  We had to have a tree taken down and it left nothing but sun on our patio and the back of our house.  We have babied the canvas cover for the past four years.  About a month ago, during one of the storms, the top blew off while we were gone.  We came back and tried to reshape the bent brackets, but no luck.  We decided that we will probably take it down and put a cover over part of our patio.

We then went to the cemetery.  I have been keeping a spray bottle and towels in my car so that whenever I stop by Mark's grave, I can "wash his face" so to speak.  I bought some pretty new flowers to put on his grave, talked to him a bit,, then we placed flowers on the graves of Don's grandmother and great grandmother.  For some strange reason, it has always given me peace that Mark was buried near grandparents, even though he nor I had ever met them.  I know these ladies will keep him in line.

Before we went to the cemetery, Don gave me a beautiful art glass dragonfly that I had seen in a specialty shop.  I saw it hanging from the ceiling of this shop when I was looking for something special for Lisa.  Even though this store isn't close to our home, I must admit that I have "visited" this shop on more than one occasion just to see it again.  It cost way way too much money for me to buy.  I was so surprised when Donnie gave it to me...I think sometimes he rolls his eyes at dragonflies.  I mentioned to him yesterday that I didn't want him ever to say anything bad about my dragonflies, because they make me happy.  This one is so special.

It is all clear glass...I say it is crystal but I know that it really isn't.  I think sometimes when I look at it, it looks like an angel.  Other times, it looks like a cross, which is why I wear a dragonfly pendant instead of a cross.  For me, the dragonfly IS a cross...the message behind the cross that I will see my Mark again.  It is a more of a religious symbol for me than anything.  Yet, I do like to say that I am sure Mark is thrilled I turned him into a bug.

Afterwards, we went over to John's as he and Tabitha had fixed us a wonderful lunch.  We enjoyed spending time with them and watching the boys play.  They gave me a beautiful card (with a verse written by, no kidding, "D. Walley") and beautiful gifts.  I appreciate that Tabitha gives up part of her Mother's Day to make sure that I have special time with her, John and the boys.  They are the sparkle in my life.

When we returned home, there in our front yard, was a dragonfly wind vane.  Neither Don nor I know who does this every year....but we both know that it is Mark that is behind it.  Did I secretly hope there would be something again this year?  I would be lying if I said I didn't.  I have long since stopped guessing who is doing Mark's legwork, and I don't ever ever want to really know.  I just hope this person knows that for the past three years, my mother's day has been made extra special because I do feel that Mark has made his presence known.  I think this year, it impacted Don even more.  He talked about this wonderful gift for the longest time, and even though I had already thought of it, insisted that it be kept in our backyard Mark garden so that it would be safe.

We sat and watched the dragonflies gently sway with the wind.  Subtle, soft and magical, and very very special.

I have posted a picture of my dragonfly wind vane...given to me by Mark through some special person who has touched my heart.

Yesterday Don and I spent our afternoon and most of our energies cutting down two overgrown bushes in our back yard.  We were spent after we finished and left the rest of the day to just recover.  I got  some of our yard work done, but so much more to go.

Last evening, I spent some more time working on “dead people” as Don calls my genealogy fun.  While I was doing this, I was also watching a television show of “Extraordinary Mothers” .  These were famous mothers who have done incredible things.  They left out a few as far as I am concerned.

I thought of Emilie deGroene DeWalle, who came to St. Louis in the 1880’s from Belgium.  She married Peter DeWalle and they had four children.  On Christmas Eve, her husband was killed in an industrial accident.  She was left with four little children, no money, spoke no English.  Two of her children did not live to adulthood.  She had another child with her second husband, but this man was very cruel to her and her eldest son ran him out of town….with no records ever found as to what happened to him.  She never saw her homeland again, but didn’t need to, because her children were here.

I thought of Annie Colas who came from France and lived in Pennsylvania.  She had several boys, and a husband that didn’t seem to stay put.  One day, this husband went to France and brought back a son of his that had been left there….Annie was now the mother of a young French boy who spoke no English.  She just took him on as one of her own.

I thought of Mary Randall Brown Burnett Kessinger, who as a young orphaned girl, was “put over the fence and told to fend for herself” by the people who raised her for a few years.  She met a man who would make life better for her, only to lose him in the Civil War.  She would marry two more times, both times losing her husbands.   I haven’t found any sons…she left only two daughters, and only one of those daughters had children.

I think of the beautiful and scholarly Sarah Walburn Colas.  Sarah was one of the only educated women in my early family.  She attended schools in Washington DC and Chicago.  She was a social worker who helped the poor.  She married a minister and assumed the task associated with that role.  She had three children and died when her baby (my mother) was only two years old.

I think of Stella May Comer Henderson, who wasn’t formally educated, having only attended school to the fourth or fifth grade.  She was an incredible woman…years ahead of her fellow women.  She believed in equality of the sexes, equality of the races.  She loved Jesus and every single day of her life she strived to be a good Christian. 

I think of my mom, who has always been there for not only her family, but anyone whose path she may cross.  It is impossible for me to even describe the things that she has done, the impact she has made on all of us.  She is the first one I call when something wonderful has happened, and the first I call when there is a problem.

I also think of my fellow Angel Moms and the pains we feel on this day.  No Mother’s Day calls, no cards, no drop by visits coming from our special children.  We weren’t supplied with the tools that are needed when one loses a child….we are just trying to make it through each day the best way we can.

When I work on genealogy, I am not fascinated by names, birth dates, death dates or census records.  I am more interested in learning their stories, how they achieved what they did in the world in which they lived.   I think all of them are my “Extraordinary Mothers”.

What a busy day!  I got up at a reasonably early hour for me, got the shopping done and started on the projects of the day.

Don didn't feel really well today.  He hasn't for several days and I am starting to get a little concerned.  Then, a little while ago I checked my email and noted that there was a message posted on the guestbook....asking how Don is doing since his heart attack.

He is still going to rehab and doing everything he is supposed to do.  About a month ago he had another cardiac cath and another stent placed.  It is hard to tell if it is his rheumatoid arthritis or the heart attack that is slowing him down.  He really lacks the energy to do much.  I think that is one reason our gardens are lagging behind..not just the weather, but also a lack of energy on our part.

It is easy to fall into the same pattern of someone who isn't feeling well.  Many of the things that we like to do outside...we just haven't been doing.  Several weeks ago our neighbor just came over, took Don's lawn mower, and mowed our lawn.  I was so thankful for Ron for doing that for us.  He knew that Don couldn't do it.  We now have that all arranged with another neighbor who is taking that on for us.

It is rotten to get old.

I was glad that the lawn mowing problem is resolved.  Don asked the people at rehab if he could take walks, etc., on his own and they told him he could...just to be sure to let someone know that where he was going.  I think it really deflated him.

He has a couple of more weeks of rehab to go.  He thought he only had this week, but it was extended.

He has followed every instruction perfectly...including quitting smoking.  It's been a tough road for him, but he is doing OK.  I will just be glad when he is more back to normal.

So, I have been finding myself doing a lot of inside things such as quilting, "looking up dead people" and watching way too much tv.

Today it was nicer out,, and he came out and helped me a little bit as I got the front gardens ready for flowers.  He still hasn't started his vegetable garden but I am hoping that this weekend we can get that going as well.

Whomever it was that asked...thank you for your concern.  As has been for us in the past, we depend upon the prayers and concerns of our friends to keep us going.

Mark would have been all over the death of Osama.

The morning of 9-11, I was at Schnucks early.  Someone mentioned that an airplane had flown in to the World Trade Center.  I thought that it was a small private plane that lost direction.  As I drove home, I listened and realized that it was much more.  I got home in time to turn on the television and see the second plane hit.

Mark had an 11am class.  As usual, it was going to be an event in itself in waking him up.  I went down to his room and told him to wake up, turn on the TV.  We watched together for about 3 minutes and I reminded him he needed to get up.

"There won't be any classes today....we are at war."  And there he stayed, glued to the TV.  He did eventually get up and leave....only to return shortly later as he was right.....classes were cancelled.

It was a couple of weeks later that he decided he was going to join the Marines after he finished school.  He wanted to be an air marshal and shoot bad people.  That is the goal he had for the next two years, until the cancer came.

It was one of the few times I saw him cry...especially in the first round in 2004.  He had talked to some recruiter that cancer may not necessarily keep him out of the Marines....but chemo would for sure.

Mark never again mentioned his plan.  By 2004 he became more involved in the golf industry.  He thought that he had a better career options, but I knew he imagined himself as some macho hero gunning down terrorists.

I thought of him Sunday night as I listened to the events that unfolded in Pakistan.

He would have been all over it, and probably was.

Driving home this morning I thought about Easter.  I thought about what the true meaning of Easter is and how important that is to me now that we have Mark in Heaven.  I thought about past Easters when I was a child.  Somehow, Mom and Daddy always seemed to find the means to make Easter special for us.  I always had a pretty dress, and sometimes white gloves.  Mom would set each of us girls' hair the night before.  Some of the best pictures of us were taken on Easter mornings.  I always had a nice Easter basket...usually hidden behind the couch.  Every child should have the kind of childhood my brother, sisters, and myself had.

I always tried to do the same for our boys.  I bought special baskets for the boys that I planned to decorate with flowers for when they got married...something Inever ended up doing.  I remember one particular Easter morning.  I was awake just taking a few extra minutes lying in bed when I heard a five year old Mark scamper down the hall.  I heard him go into the living room and exclaim, "Oh, he DID come!"  I wasn't what Mark thought of the Easter bunny thing since he had an older brother.  I still smile to myself and it makes me feel good inside whenever I think about that one particular morning.

A couple of years later, John was living with his friend (as with many of John's friends...Mark's friend as well) Sean Hennrich.  I was in the kitchen early in the evening the night before Easter.  Mark came in all dressed to go "Out" (I never learned exactly where "Out" was) with his truck keys in his hand.  He asked me if I had found his Easter basket.  I told him that he was too old.  I immediately got a lecture on the finer points of how unfair it was that he had to suffer because John didn't live there anymore.

After he left...do I even need to say....I went to the store and bought Easter basket fixings.  I found his Easter basket and filled it to the brim.  In some of the plastic eggs I put dollar bills...others had jelly beans.  When he came home much much later that night....I was in bed.  I could hear him going through the things in the basket.  When I walked out to the kitchen he was quickly picking up plastic eggs and shaking them...looking for the ones that had dollar bills.

"Well, the Easter bunny did come for you afterall!" I said.  He responded with "Yes, but he did it wrong...he didn't hide my basket."

My mother shared with me last week another story.  I am sure she had told it to me before but it seemed like a new story to me.  She told me that when Mark was little, she kept him at her house over the weekend.  She would do that from time to time...take either John or Mark for the weekend.  It was a couple of weeks before Easter and she had a large candy bowl full of jelly beans in the living room.  On Sunday evening, after she had returned Mark to us, she happened to notice the candy dish.

All that was left were black jelly beans.  No other color there.

It could possibly be that he wanted to leave some jelly beans for someone else...ones he didn't like.  But, I think it is more probable that he was too lazy to throw those away.  Better to pick out the ones he likes the most.

After the posting I put yesterday....there are black jelly bean memories I have of Mark....but I like to concentrate more on the colorful ones.

Yet, a bowl of black jelly beans left by a little Mark DeWalle is pretty funny...and pretty typical Mark.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

I haven't left.....so surprised people actually check here.  I lost my phone, my computer is being serviced...but have lots to say and hopefully this weekend will be posting.

Thinking of Mark especially this week as Good Friday is tomorrow and because of Good Friday, I will see Mark again.

Not only has it been quiet on this website, but it is very quiet in this house tonight.

Don had a heart attack today. 

I sit here late at night not liking how quiet it is.  I hear sounds and jump.  My cell phone whirrrs or rings and I jump.  It has been a bad day.....but a good day.  All mixed up.

I called John just as the paramedics were leaving with Don.  John got to the hospital before I did.  Tabitha arrived shortly thereafter.  Things were too calm, too controlled.

They talk about denial with heart attacks.  I know this happens with the person actually having the heart attack, but I didn't realize it happens with their spouse.

I sincerely thought they would come out and tell us that he had a mild heart attack and he would be going home.  Not a chance.

Don woke me up from my pre-work nap telling me he had chest pain.  He had already taken an aspirin and I told him that I would call 911.  He really didn't look THAT bad....but I knew it was the thing to do.  Both of us are probably ticking time bombs as it is.

When the paramedics arrived, I asked them if he was going to go to the hospital.  Yes, absolutely.  I asked if he could go to MoBapt....no, they...or should I say Don....couldn't wait that long.

Don told me that he wasn't in the ED that long and they whisked him to the cardiac cath lab telling him that it was "very very bad."

He is resting OK tonight and I am pretty much exhausted. 

There are a couple of things that hit me today, that I never really realized.  One of those is that with Mark gone, John is left alone with Tabby to manage whatever problem Don and I face.  It was John who methodically contacted his aunts and uncles.  He had no sibling to share this responsibility.

Darn you, Mark....that isn't fair.  You have done this before, leaving John with all the work.  Don't think I don't remember my 50th birthday.  I was slightly amused at how you always seemed to get out of doing what should have been your fair share.  Today I didn't think it was funny.  I kept thinking how I wish you were here helping us in this very stressful situation.

But then, maybe from afar, or even very close at hand, you are looking out for your dad.

The other thing I realized about an hour ago, I do not like the quiet of the house.  I do not like that the television isn't on with Don sleeping in front of it.  Just too quiet for me.

This website has also been quiet.  I have been working on a special project that involves me "annoying people" and have used that time to do my thinking, soul searching.  I feel bad that I haven't posted here in awhile....but it primarily is because I have been able to unleash all these thoughts while working on my special project.

I continue to entertain myself with Mark and John topics while I work on it.  I am able to sort through things in my mind, trying to put everything in its proper place.

Nothing fits tonight.  I knew that we didn't live an exactly healthy lifestyle and that both Don and me are ticking time bombs.  Yet, sometimes I think enough is enough.  I don't need any new chapters.

I haven't dealt with the last one yet.

Mark....I know you have pull with someone up there.  Take  some of the load off of John and me and do your fair share. 

In the mean time, say some prayers for us. 

If you are not yet 10 years old, then don't read any further.

I can't remember when Mark stopped believing in Santa.  I am not really sure he never stopped believing.  If he did, I am sure his brother, John, had something to do with it.  If he still believed, I am sure his brother, John, had something to do with it.

I thought about this all week.  I know that Michael and Daniel are on the cusp of changing their believe-ability.  Michael, always the dreamer, always the one who loves Christmas, holidays, and anything make believe.....is now 8 years old.   If he doesn't believe, or has wonderings about everything, he hasn't told Granny.

Danny, on the other hand, has had a few conversations with others.  Michael told me yesterday, in a tone of total disgust, that "Danny said he doesn't believe in Santa Claus."  I told Daniel that I had never heard such a stupid thing.

After all, it was Daniel who reminded his parents that they had not been to the mall to see Santa.  They fought the crowds, long lines two days before Christmas and took the boys.  After all....Joey DOES believe and he needed to see Santa.  Daniel told me that he does believe in Santa after I questioned him, and that he doesn't care what Santa brings him...it will be good.

At any rate, we believe at Granny's house.

The Christmas after Mark died, we attended a Sunday School class that John led a presentation.  It was a "history" of Christmas as we have all come to know.  He talked about the pagan rituals and how the day was established to celebrate Christ's birth based upon the Winter Solstice.  He talked about Santa and how it the concept evolved into what we know of today.

I like the idea of Santa.  I like the idea of little kids stressing over if they had been good or bad.  I like teaching fun Christmas songs.  Make believe builds imagination.  I was pretty sure John was going to speak about how the commercialization of Christmas and the whole Santa thing really went against religion and faith.

I was wrong.

I may have details wrong as to what John said except for one thing:  what his perception of the purpose of Santa really was.

He said that the concept of Santa was important because it is the first thing our children learn about believing, having faith in, and thinking about in something we could not see.  Sure, there are pictures, people dressed up as Santa, songs, etc......but the same could be said for Christ.  There are many symbols and paintings of Jesus...but none of us have seen a video or an actual picture of him.

Santa gives us the first experience with believing in something we may not see...only feel. 

I thought about this idea all day.  I don't ever want the boys to not believe there is a promise of a place for all of us to go that is without worries, without pain, without any hardship or stress.  I want them to know that they will see Uncle Mark again and that Heaven is not a place made up.

So, the transition, however slow or quickly it becomes from believing Santa is coming down that fireplace, is not something to tread lightly.   There is magic in believing.

I know that Mark is in Heaven.  I know that I will see him again.  And this doesn't come from believing in a funny looking man in a red suit.....it comes from my faith and belief in the Baby Jesus.

Merry Christmas, Markie.  You are so loved, and so missed.

Sunday morning when I got home from work, I checked email and looked at Facebook.  I like to check to see what my nephews are up to, and am able to keep contact with a couple of Mark's friends.  I am not a Facebook hound, and am actually pretty careful who I "friend".  I will never have hundreds or thousands of "friends" like some have.....the ones listed are truly people who are my friends and people I never want to lose contact with.

Very shortly after I signed on, I got an instant message from one of those people.  I consider Dale Gegg a true friend.

I first met Dale years ago when John was playing freshman football at Mehlville.  Coach Gegg was one of his coaches and I remember John saying that he liked Coach so much.  There are several memories I have of that season, and Coach Gegg was key in both.

During one game, there were some outstanding plays and I remember thinking that the team seemed so quiet, not showing any kind of display.  I was sitting with my Dad, and we both commented that the stands were going crazy, but the players acted so calm.  Immediately, the coach we all called the "quiet one", turned around and yelled at the players "Don't you guys get excited about anything!!!!"  The sidelines erupted and they were yelling and cheering.  It was so funny.  I doubt anyone remembers that but me....my Dad is now gone and the two of us used to laugh about Coach Gegg's "pep talk."

The one that sticks out the most was the last game.  At the end of the game we were again cheering a winning team.  John's freshman team never lost a game.  I watched the players pat each other on the back, yet what I remember most was Coach Gegg hugging his fellow coaches and several of the players.  I remember thinking...what a special person he is...he is just as thrilled as the players and the parents.  It was one of my first experiences understanding the specialness of Mehlville football coaches. 

Mark's experiences with Coach Gegg involved some with football as well as basketball.  Don and me were lucky to develop more of a working relationship with Coach through fundraising efforts for football and basketball.  Coach's kids were young and I remember thinking how much time and effort he put into his coaching and his players...time that took away from his children.  I always tried to do as much as I could so he wouldn't have to stay.

When Mark got sick, there were several times Coach came over to see us.  I recall three or four where he just showed up.  One time when he and his wife came over after being out to dinner.  Coach sat in Mark's little bedroom and watched I think a baseball game with him.   There were several times he was there during Mark's last two weeks.

Coach always, always had kind words for Don and me, was there for support for John...and left Mark feeling special because Coach had taken time to be there for him.

It was after one of these visits that Mark told me he wanted Coach Gegg to do something at his funeral.  We discussed what role that could be and Mark said he wanted him to read "those prayers where everyone talks back"...the responsorials.  After Mark left us, John contacted Coach and he graciously agreed to do this for us.  I remember I worked on them so hard for two nights, wanting the right words, wanting to be sure that the things Mark wanted said were included.

I don't remember too much of Mark's funeral...especially at the church.  I remember seeing Gwen when I got out of the car.  I remember shaking so hard, not believing why we were there as we escorted Mark's casket down the church aisle.  What I do remember, was clutching the paper with the prayers and the only person's face I can remember seeing as I took that long walk, was Coach Gegg.  I reached out to him, he clutched my hand, and I gave him the prayers. 

A couple of weeks later, I began working on our family history again.  A goal of mine was always to find someone we knew that was related to us.  It is complicated, but Don and Dale are actually 5th cousins on Don's father's side. 

When Coach messaged me Sunday, I was happy to hear from him.  What he had to tell me just made my heart hurt so bad.  He told me that his sister had died from cancer the night before.

We contacted John and he felt very bad that his coach and friend was hurting.  We all then learned Monday morning, that Dale also lost his mother on Sunday.

Don and me struggled as to what we could do.  Dale had given us so much support that we wanted to be able to return it.

I don't think there exists the "right thing to say."  I have spent the last 36 hours thinking about it and trying to decide what gave us the most comfort.  After much consideration, I think I finally have it.

The very best help that we had.....was knowing that there were people who cared that we were hurting.  There was nothing that they could do, nothing that they could say. 

Please think of our friend over the coming weeks.   Whenever I see Coach Gegg...I remember the impact he had on my sons' lives and the impact he had on our healing. 

I pray for his comfort.