Don't you just love that altar boy picture of Nick Bono and Mark.  Here is a funny addition to that story.....both John and Kathy Bono and Don and me were informed by the principal that after Nick and Mark were placed in Kindergarten and 1st grade together.....the decision was made NEVER to place the two together again.  Can't imagine why.

I wasn't able to get back online on the ship....just never seemed to have any downtime to do it.  The cruise was really neat.  John and Tabby were one balcony away and Dave and Linda were one balcony away the other side of us.  It rained in Nassau and that was really rather disappointing.  After going to the straw market and spending $$.....we walked around Nassau a bit and took a horse drawn carriage ride. Then, we went back to the ship and I took a nap.  Later in the day, the rain stopped and Don and I and John and his family took a taxi to Atlantis on Paradise Island.  Unbelieveable place.  It took us almost an hour to go through the aquarium and we pretty much rushed through it.  Then, we walked the beach from Atlantis about 1/4 mile to where Don left his Mark bracelet. It was really nice.....and we enjoyed this time with them immensely.

Sunday was the CocoCay day.  We got up early, got in line...only to find out they weren't goingto let us off until the Captain made a decision as to whether it was safe.  There was a huge storm and we were threatened with a "Fun day at sea".  I was glad we had a balcony.....there were a lot of unhappy people.  About an hour later they decided we could "try it", so all of us were on one of the first tenders over to the island.  By the time we walked to the other side of the island where it is peaceful and so beautiful.....another storm rolled in.  We stood in a beach bar and waited in the hardest rain I think I have ever seen.  We tried to pretend that we were in a hurricane, and tried to make light of it and not show our disappointment when one of the workers said that we may have to go back to the ship.   Finally, after about 30 minutes, the storm ended and blue sky was with us the rest of the day.   It was wonderful.  Michael saw a sea monster, Danny saw penguins, and Tabitha was nearly attacked by a stingray until John saved his princess.

That evening began a real downer for Don and me.....we were packing and after going through my suitcase, I realized I must have left my Seaworld bag on the beach...along with my cameras.  I was so upset and so mad.  Everyone else had started ahead of me and I was left trailing behind trying to pick stuff up.  I remember feeling rushed and could not remember if I had picked up my bag off the hammock.  Don was mad at me for leaving it, I was upset with myself....and the last 12 hours on the ship were awful for me.   I sat on the balcony and just cried.  In the morning, it wasn't much better....and everyone seemed to want to talk about it and I just wanted to forget it.  I was trying to get it right in my mind......it was NOT the worst thing that ever happened to us.  I told Don the same and he agreed.  I was not going to let losing our camera ruin everything.  I knew that at home, on my desk, was the camera I bought for Mark and it is a much better  camera than the one we had.

In the morning, Don and I waited and waited and waited for our luggage.  I was dizzy from watching the baggage racks go around and a little sick from eating at what Don and I ended up calling "The Old Country Buffet" on the ship.  I was also upset because I knew John and Tabitha were outside with the babies, waiting for the shuttle to Disney.  I wanted to see them before we left.  I went ahead to see if I could see them and was standing by the door.  A security guard came up and was going around me and said "Excuse me" so I took one step aside.  When I tried to step back again...he hollered at me and said I was breaching security and could not re-enter the building.  I stood there and literally busted into tears.  I couldn't find my luggage, my kids were leaving, Don was inside waiting for me, and this jerk wasn't going to let me back in.  I got his name.  Don't worry.

Anyway, John saw me and Don eventually came out.  John went back in and in about five minutes came out with our luggage.  He knew I was upset over the camera and told me things were goingn to be ok.  I just didn't want him going....Don and I were not happy with one another, etc. etc. etc.

But...we did say our goodbyes, kissed the babies, and took the shuttle to get our rental car.  We went to the store and bought a beautiful beach umbrella, two chairs, a cooler, soda and beer.  We were ready.  We were able to check into our first hotel...the LaQuinta.  No frills, but clean and nice.  We did some unpacking....and in Don's suitcase....was my Seaworld bag and my camera.  I told him....that I get to slap him everyday this week.  I had asked him to check his suitcase...but, oh, forget it, it is over.

For the past two days we have gone to Lori Wilson Park which is a beautiful park.  We walk a very short distance and we are on the beach.  We look like Indians.  Everyday, around 4pm, a storm comes through but we are pretty much beach done for the day, anyway.

Today we took a "tour" at Ron Jon Resort....made $50 doing it.  It was something to do this morning because we checked out of the LaQuinta and into the Four Points....and it is beautiful.
It rained all afternoon, but that is ok.  Don and I are having a wonderful time together and we know we will have beach time tomorrow.

We think, and talk about Mark all the time.  We giggle everytime we go into one of the beach stores.  About 12 years ago, we took the boys to Cocoa Beach.  We can see where we stayed from this hotel.  Mark talked us into buying him a boogie board for about $10.......then talked us into shipping it home for  $60.  I wanted to do the same with the pretty umbrella we bought...but Don said Mark used all our shipping money years ago.

I went into a tattoo parlor for the first time in my life.  I just may get a dragonfly tattoo....but am going to wait and do some thinking on it for a while.  I think doing that on his birthday will have more meaning.

We have seen messages from Mark....a beautiful rainbow in the sky when we were on the ocean....and one ON the ocean....all when we were on ship.  The only item so far that I have seen with dragonflys Michael found for me on ship Sunday night.  There is a condo just a block away from here....called "The Mark"....and we just feel so at peace this time.

I did speak with John briefly Tuesday...they were having fun at Disney World.  We haven't spoken to him since, but both Don and I feel that we made the right decision not to go.  All that walking is exhausting.  I am sure they are having a good time.

I don't have access to post pictures right now...but will when we get back home.

I am having a good time....not too sure about Don since I get to slap him everyday.

Sometimes  - it’s the unexpected chance meeting of friends around South County that make our day. 
It was Memorial Day – and we went out to eat breakfast.  Feeling a little melancholy –
I stepped outside to get some fresh air.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone running up to me and give me a big  hug  -   It was Nick Bono in town!
His family and then Mike H. came out – we all caught up on what was new.

But what was so special – they brought up Mark and easily talked about him. We laughed about how Mark and Nick made their name at St. Francis – giving the nuns all kinds of fits, with their feisty spirit and constant energy.

They mentioned they had a photo of Mark and Nick, when they
“received the calling” of becoming alter boys.

Nick has emailed me the photo – and expressed how glad he was to run into us – He said he has thought of Mark often through the past year, and keeps all of us in his thoughts and prayers, and to please let the Dewalle’s know that too.

Barb can rearrange and place elsewhere when she gets back, but I have to show you all this photo –
I put it on the side link titled, "Alter Boys".

Nope, they don’t have their hands folded and heads down in prayer…. Even then, Mark celebrates an occasion with smiles and laughter with a friend..

From Nick and Mark to all the nuns….here’s looking at ya!

(From Debbie A - Mark's Aunt)

We are really having a great time.  Yesterday the weather was perfect.  We were able to get on boartd by 1230 and spent the afternoon by the ship's pool and enjoying the sun.  By the time we returned to our rooms (with our terrific balcony views) we were ready for dinner.

Now, before they even pull out of port, the ship has to run an emergency muster drill.  Anyway that has been on a cruise ship can tell you how painful that is....putting on life vests, taking the stairs and then standing in line on deck until everyone is accounted for and hears the instructions.

I think I have learned the secret of getting out of it.

Either take someone with you who needs a wheelchair or carry a sleeping three year old.  They will immediately put you inside the ship, in a nice comfortable chair until things were over.  Danny wanted to watch cartoons in Granny and Papa's room and it wasn't long before he said he was "tired and cold"...sure sign he was ready to nod off.  When he fell asleep Don said we needed to put on his lifejacket...no way...I knew it would get us out of the drill.

The dinner, of course was wonderful.  We spent time walking around the ship.  The grandparents got group and individual pictures taken with Danny and Michael.  Can't wait to see them.

Don and I spent some time on the balcony, listening to the waves.  Nothing is as healing as that.  WE remember how helpful it was to us last year...and it remains so.  I fell asleep quite early...

Today we will be in Nassau.  IT is around 4am and we don't dock until close to 11 so I am able to get a few more hours of sleep.  My eye is MUCH MUCH better. 

Everything is perfect on this trip, everything.  Twice I have heard "Walking in Memphis" playing.  Mark is here.....we feel him everywhere. 

We are doing great, things are going great.

I am so glad Debbie is taking over the website while I am gone.  Actually..... very happy.  I think it is important that we have viewpoints of others and Deb and Mark were, and remain, very very close.

I am sitting here in a different motel lobby than where we are staying.  Forgot, I think, my notebook with all our travel documentation and needed to get into my email to reprint a couple of things.  We will be leaving in a few hours to get on the ship.  I am already in my swimming suit.  I love Florida...can even go to the grocery store in one's swimming suit. 

The flight was wonderful....don't remember much about it at all except I liked the cookies they gave out.  The boys were wonderful...not a peep out of them.  I supposed the only noise coming from the DeWalle group was Granny snoring.

They didn't have the rental cars that Tabby reserved...so they gave us convertibles.  Danny still can't get over the fact his car doesn't have a roof.  John took them cruising down Cocoa Beach strip.

We went to SeaWorld and of course it was hot, lots of sweaty people.  The boys (and adults) loved Shamu and the sharks.  We were there several hours and then drove to Cocoa Beach.  Linda (Tabby's mom)  had NEVER seen the ocean.  She said, "How did they get all this sand here."  I may have to create a link of the funny things Linda says.

The only hang up was I woke up yesterday with the worst eye infection in my "bad eye" that I have ever had.  I am already on antibiotics for my cut finger and scurried around our house at 3am looking for eye drops.  I love my doctor.  All it took was a phone call to Dr. Lowder's office once we got in Atlanta and after we checked into our motel at Cocoa Beach.....went across the street to Walgreens and got my medicine.  It is SO much better this morning.  Yesterday, I was miserable.

Need to go...I think there are PAYING people at this motel who want to use this computer.
Next post....from the high seas.
We are having a wonderful time.
Deb.....keep writing.  You know what it means to me.

From Debbie A. (Mark’s Aunt)

Mark equaled spitfire. He jumped in to every activity going on – was the first to try sledding down our steep hill and going through the small opening of the open gate at the bottom – only to land in the creek – yet so proud that he did it, Scored a goal in ice hockey, then crashed into the endboards because he didn’t know how to stop, gave ONE of his swimmies to Mick so they BOTH could go swimming – (which nearly caused them both to drown),  would stand up and loudly sing the national anthem in our family room before every hockey game on TV. (yep - both the American AND Canadian). 

When he was around 10 yrs old, he could swing dance with me  - taking turns with Mick, eagerly letting me turn him around and around to the music of Phil Collins.  His infectious laugh while teasing me or playing a prank made it hard not to join in and return the volley, like going with him to throw a bowl of cold water on his uncle Mike in the shower and then all of us running. 
  

He was Mick’s #1 fan –Always.

He also was the first person to come hug and hold me up as I cried when Mick won to go to state in hockey.
He kept saying in my ear, “I knew Mick would do it – I told you I told You!”

From what I heard, he celebrated Jeff’s college graduation more than anyone else there at Mean Fish in Rolla.
Mark was the one who held me the night to hide me as I cried at Mick’s party to leave to Oklahoma.

Many times, Mark’s side bear hug could calm me – no words needed.   

After Mark’s first round of Cancer, we touched on what he thought life was about –
he didn’t want to be some savior with some great message – but just wanted to live life.

I celebrate Mark’s life.

I celebrate him by dancing now every chance I get…and I laugh loud....hug long.

..Not because I feel ominous – but because my sweet nephew taught me sometimes it’s good enough….to just LIVE LIFE.

And hopefully, through that, I will make a difference to someone, somehow like he did to me.

Mick left for Los Cabos today, fulfilling a promise to Mark to go to the ocean for him.
Mick just called, and emotionally said that he feels Mark everywhere.

To Barb, Don, John, and Tabby - I know you are feeling Mark  too where you are at..
And Happy Anniversary to John and Tabby!
 

Barb will try to blog from where she is at on vacation,

but asked me to blog and place this photo (see link on side titled – DANCE)
on the website that I sent her after she wrote about her and Mark’s dance. 
  

To all -  when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance ..

Don and I are leaving on vacation this week.  Frankie will be living at our house so anyone thinking on breaking in just forget it.  He has tattoos and rides a motorcycle and has "no filter".  Enough said.

This past week I have come to realize that some things we take with us, and other things we need to leave behind.  Kris sent me a poem that helped me so very much understand the changes that Don and I have had to go through.  Not just dealing with Mark's illness and death....but what is left in the aftermath.  There are people who no longer call, there are activities we don't do anymore, but our memories are very very strong.

I realized something the other night when we were out with our friends...people who have stuck with us throughout everything, as well as new friends that have given us so much joy.  At the luau, there were people dancing.  I used to love to go to weddings and events where people would dance.  I am not a good dancer, but would always be out there.

Saturday night, I didn't.  I didn't even want to dance.  I enjoyed watching Don and Mary, Kris and Gary, and the Smalls dance.  That was more fun for me.  I told Denise that I used to like to do that and she suggested I get up.  It just wasn't in me. 

I realized that last December when we went to Scott and Mary's wedding, that I never would have the mother-son dance.  I gave mine away with John to my mother at his wedding.  I don't regret that and still can see John so happy, dancing with his grandmother to their beloved Frank Sinatra.  My father was dying.  He was at the hospital on a ventilator.  We had agreed that we would attend John and Tabby's wedding and put our heartache aside.  I dont' regret giving that dance to my mom.  She needed it.  Our family needed it.

At Scott and Mary's wedding, however, I realized that I never would have that dance.  I watched Scott dance with his mom.  I remember how he looked at his mom and how she looked at him.  Scott's mom is in a wheelchair but trust me....that was the most beautiful dancing partners there ever were.  I could feel the tears swelling up and for the first time I was jealous of Mark's friends.  I went outside and had a very good cry.  When I came back in, Scott Houska was dancing with his mom, Gwen.  It was then, that I realized what the tears were really about.

I am not sure if I will ever really feel like dancing again.  I love to watch the others but if I can't have that ONE dance.....then I am content to be just an observer.

The last time I danced, it was with Mark. 

That dance was at the Gartner's wedding.  I didn't even realize it until I was typing all of this.  Somehow, I am going to make this my mother-son dance with him.

I have found that this website has helped me tremendously.  I don't usually know what I am going to write about.  It just happens.  Maybe, just maybe, I can ingest this thought that I did have a mother-son dance with Mark.....and dance again.

That would be a neat thing.

John has emailed me a couple of times this week.  He reads this website, but has very very rarely ever posted anything.  I really wish he would.  I wish Tabitha would.  I think they feel that this is my site.....but it is really Mark's.  At any rate, getting an email from John telling me how he enjoyed hearing the stories, and correcting details (he said he wasn't home when the Kirby vaccuum lady came....that he and Tom showed up later) helps me so much.  I like talking about Mark.  I also like having John's input.  He reminded me of a story I had forgotten....and it demonstrates Mark's determination at an early age.

Mark was six years old and he was watching television downstairs.  He came up to the kitchen very excited with a piece of paper.  He handed me the paper and directed me to "call this number right away."  The paper had numbers on it....in all different parts of the paper.  There was no rhyme or reason to them...some were in the middle, some in the corners, some just spread out.  I had no idea what telephone number he had written down.  I told him I couldn't make the call and what was this for?

"Mom, they are the neatest knives I have ever seen."

I can just see this 6 year old scrambling to write the telephone number from the TV screen, having no idea that  it had to be in a particular order.  He was a sucker for informercials.  I believe that he got that from his Grandpa Henderson who was always buying things off the television.  I remember even in high school, where he talked me into using my credit card to buy this abdominal exerciser.  He and Juliet were going to share it.  I bought it, they used it, and I never saw my money OR results from that piece of quackery.  But to Mark, it was a neat thing.

Yet, from a six year's perspective....the knives were magical and neat.  I try to remember that Mark often saw things differently than I do.  I know, that without him lecturing me for the last six months of his life, that I wouldn't be able to reason or find the desire to be happy.

His stories make me happy.  The things that he did....and continues to do.....they make me happy.  They help our family heal. 

We are starting to rebuild.  We are surrounding ourselves with positive activities, and positive people.

That is a neat thing.

In John's eulogy, he mentions that "Mogey" aka Mark, hated his nickname.  He didn't mind it when he was little.....but I DO recall a very stern look from Mehlville's basketball court during a game when his mama yelled it out.  Couldn't help it....but if looks could kill..I wouldn't be typing this today.

Mark was magic.  We used to say that he had "Mogey Magic".  I honestly believe he had some degree of power that none of us had.  I know that when he took control of his situation that the real thrust of his magic came through.  I still feel it today.

Dennis Roth called him "Magic Markie".  Mark got that nickname from Dennis when he was about two years old.  We had a brand new sofa...the blue one that we had in the living room with the curved back.  I loved it.  It was so perfect and to this day I have never seen another one I liked so well.  I hated it when we finally bought a new one...but for more reasons than just decor.

It was a rainy afternoon.  Mark was still in diapers and John was in first grade.  I was in the kitchen and thought that Mark was a little too quiet.  I went into the living room and saw Mark with a blue Sharpie....and he had written over the curved top of the couch and the cushions.  I don't ever recall coming so close to hitting a kid.....but this was the moment I would have done it.  I could feel the anger just swelling up and knew that I had to get him out of my way for a minute or two.  So....diaper clad I put two year old Mark on the front porch....in the rain.

I could see him the whole time, of course.  Standing at the window of the door looking in...he could not only see me trying to save my new couch, but also hear me yelling.  Just then, the phone rang.  It was Lois Brockmeyer.  "Do you know that Mark is on the front porch?" she asked.  I told my dear friend to "mind her own @#$@ business" and hung up the phone.  Within 15 seconds she was at the door and saved Mark from the wrath of his mother.  Very shortly thereafter, Gloria dropped John home from school.  He calmly said to me, "Mom, just turn the cushions over."

To this day, John is my voice of reason.  I will make a decision, then totally change it once I get John's input.  It is the not the only time he ever came to Mark's defense.

Dennis heard about the couch story....and was amazed that Mark survived.  From that point on, he called Mark "Magic Markie".  It worked well.  MogeyMagic often helped me out.  In the cold mornings when I had carpool, Mark would sit next to me in the front seat (yes, no carseats then) and John and I would tell him to work his Mogey Magic.  He would wiggle his stretched out fingers straight ahead and I would turn the key.....as long as the Mogey Magic was working, the car would start.  One morning he didn't do it...and the car didn't start.  John and me told him, "Mark, do your Mogey Magic."  He did....and the engine immediately turned over.

We used this periodically throughout Mark's lifetime.  I know when John was playing football and it was a tight situation...I would tell Mark to do his magic and he would wiggle his fingers at the field.  Coach Heyde and the team of 96 might think it was them.  I know better.  I like to think that Mark was standing on the goal post, in between the uprights, this past season wiggling his fingers at Mehlville's State bound team.

When Mark became so ill, so quickly, and the doctors told us they were not sure he would survive the weekend....once again I reminded Mark about his magic.  I told him, "You have to dig way deep and get the Mogey Magic going...you can do it."  He looked at me and then he cried.  I reminded him he had special power.  We needed it...we were not ready.  His power gave us six more months.  I know that prayer helped, I am sure the chemo helped, but a big part of it was Mogey Magic.

This past Saturday Don and I thoroughly enjoyed an evening with some friends.  We went to a luau at Indian Hills with Heydes, Silhavys, Smalls, Fendlers and the Franks.  It has been a very long time since we have actually gone "out".  We have not really done anything socially that didn't involve a wedding or something.  We used to love going out with friends but over the past year neither of us has had the initiative to plan anything with anyone.  Don and I decided that we were done with that and if we wanted to start going out with our friends, then we would need to start making calls ourselves.  It was really the very first time we had done anything like this with the people we invited, and they are awfully good people.  I honestly felt like it was a "coming out" evening for Don and me.  We need to start feeling good and have some fun once in awhile. 

I didn't think that I would ever feel this way again.  I do struggle with planning to have a fun time, with the weight of losing a son to cancer always around me.  I am 24 seconds from crying at any given time.  Yet, I made specific promises to Mark.  He wanted this for us.

Still, to this day, Mogey Magic continues.

I read the posting about the young man who is going to the Olympics and recently discovered that he had testicular cancer.  He is delaying his treatment until after the Olympics.  Good for him.

I remember the afternoon Mark came up the stairs from his room and told me that I needed to make an appointment for him to see Dr. Stahle.  I was washing dishes.  I remember that the first thought I had was "you are now 21 years old and you are old enough to make your own appointments."  Mark always had something like this going on...he needed to get his teeth cleaned, his shoulder ached, his ankle had arthritis (so he said) and on and on.  When he was little, Don used to tease him and say he had imaginitis.  I held my thought, for some unknown reason, and asked him why.  "I found a lump." was his response.  "Where?"  I asked him.  "On my testicle".

I knew at that very moment we were in trouble.  I kept my cool and calmly told him I knew he didn't want ME to look at it and he better call Dr. Stahle himself.  He said he had to leave to go play golf and would do it in the morning, and he left.   I sat and the floor and cried.

For some reason, I didn't tell Don or John.  Perhaps I was protecting myself and everyone else.  I think it was almost two weeks before I mentioned it to Don and that was only because Mark was going for an ultrasound.  It wasn't until the first or second week of November that we really knew that Mark did not have imaginitis this time...it was real.

John took off work, Don took off work and we all joined Mark when he went to get his test results from Dr. Still.  Don and I drove separately and I remember telling Don we were going to look silly because this was nothing to worry about...Mark just had some sort of hernia or something.

Dr.Still called Mark first into his office and after about ten minutes Dr. Still came out and got the rest of us.  I remember Dr. Still taking my arm and giving me a chair in the exam room.  It was crowded as it was a small room and all of us were there.  Mark was sitting in a chair near the door, with a silly, smirk on his face...one that I could not read.  Dr. Still stood in front of me with a report paper.  I recall that as I listened to him I kept trying to look at the report to be sure it had Mark's name on it.  I was not prepared for what he told us.

He said he was 90% sure Mark had cancer.  They believed at that time is was testicular cancer and he reviewed the various treatments, etc.  These treatments would depend upon what kind of testicular cancer it was...whether surgery would take care of it or whether or not Mark would require chemotherapy or radiation.   We all knew Mark would need surgery as soon as possible.

We went into talk with Dr. Still's surgery scheduler and she said she was able to schedule the surgery for the following week...the day before Thanksgiving.  Mark emphatically said no.  She said the next available date was Dec 15th or so...and I started crying.  "I cannot wait that long."

Mark, as he did throughout this journet, took control.  "Mom, I am not having surgery the day before Thanksgiving.  All my friends will be in town and I need to tell them what is happening and that everything will be ok."  I still cried.  "Mom, the 15th will be fine.  I need to get my friends ready.  We have all been through enough as it is."

So, Mark delayed his surgery because of his friends.  He wanted the chance to talk to them personally and I am sure to seek out their support.  Was it a wrong decision?  No.  Mark was right.  He apparently had already had this tumor growing for a couple of months and one more week wasn't going to matter.  Besides, testicular cancer has one of the highest cure rates of any cancer.

It took over three weeks to get Mark's pathology report back.  Dr. Still had told us his surgery would last about and hour and a half.  It lasted over four hours.  When he came out, he explained to us that everytime he sent a specimen out for pathology, they couldn't identify it.  He said the tumor was NOT testicular...that it started at the epidydimis (I always spell that wrong).  He said it didn't look like anything he had ever seen before so he did a large resection..taking all that he could.  Mark never had testicular cancer.

When we learned that Mark had desmoplastic small round cell cancer, the first thing Mark said was he was going out of town.  He didn't want to deal with the phone calls, the doctors deciding what to do.  He didn't need to be here.  He wanted to go to Jamaica or somewhere in the Caribbean but we talked him out of that.  We knew he needed to stay in the country in case something didn't go right.  He ended up spending some time with two of his friends in Las Vegas.  Two days after he came back, he started his first session with chemo.

December2006, his cancer returns and all Mark could think about was delaying treatment and going out to spend time with Mandy.  We had given him tickets for Christmas and he didn't care..."It will be awhile before I can go anywhere".  Had he not become so sick just a few days before, Mark would have escaped the whole cancer thing and would have been in Colorado.

I am sure this Olympian will do well.  He is going to bring the importance of spreading knowledge about testicular cancer.  God is with him.  His delay is important....he is realizing a life dream...and most of us never get that chance.

He reminds me of another champion I loved so much and miss so much.

Sunday Don and I spent over two hours cleaning Mark's section of Kinswood. It is the part of the road that we have adopted and pledged to keep clean...all in Mark's honor.

I like seeing Mark's sign everytime I leave home, and seeing the sign greeting me back.  I hope that there are people out there that see it and wonder who Mark DeWalle was.  For Don and me, we never forget and the time we spend picking up trash gives us both time to think about Mark.

Don is faster at it than I am.  I try and pick up everything from cigarette butts to broken pieces of beer bottles.  The beer bottles make me mad.  That means someone is drinking and possibly driving and I have a real issue with that..  This time I picked up more broken beer bottles and beer cans than anything else.

There have been times I have been out there and spend the time crying.  No one is around and I am all by myself, yet doing something constructive.  A good work in Mark's name.  At times I am angry that there is even a sign there.....and that is what I usually start thinking about and everything that goes with it...and the tears fell.

This time I tried to concentrate on what stands out in my mind about Markie.  I tried to busy my mind with coming up with ten or fifteen different times that I can clearly see Mark's face and thought about the stories involved with those times.

I remember the very last football game he played in at Mehlville.  I remember standing on the track watching him...knowing this would be the last time.  I could feel the emotions building up in myself...knowing that I would not have a Panther out on that field again.  Mark came off the field and was standing on the sidelines.  He turned and saw me....and when he looked at me all he said was "Mom".  I could tell he was holding back tears.  I just shook my head and said "I know".  Neither of us could hear one another....it was just a moment that both of us had been dreading.  I know that he was hurting that they were going to lose.  I watched him go back on the field, play a few plays....then slowly, very slowly, come off the field when the game was over.  Paul Dierker had his arm around him.  I could tell Mark was crying.  When I think about Mark growing up from a little boy into a man.....that is the moment I think about.  After that night, I knew every hurt, every emotion, he would compare with that moment.  Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine the disappointment all of us would have a short three years later.

I remember when John was starting to do things with friends without Mark.  They were four years apart but very very close until John reached his early teen years.  I knew it would be an adjustment for Mark that his older brother would be going "out" with his own friends, leaving his little brother at home.  There was one particular evening where John was going to the movies with some of his friends, and Mark was going to be left at home with Mom and Dad.  He was not happy.  He wanted to go along and I tried to explain to him that John was now of the age where he was going to get to do some things that Mark was not going to do.  Mark's comment:  "I don't get to do cwap"...and he said "cwap" just like that.  It is something that his dad, his grandma and me still laugh about.  I can still see Mark standing in the kitchen, all of 8 years old, angry with us all.  We all still say it to one another once in awhile.  A treasure I keep.

Since I work nights, I sleep during the day.  Once the boys were older..especially when John got old enough to fend for himself and keep tabs on his brother, they would be at home during the summer days while I slept.  We had an above ground pool and they would swim, watch tv, and play video games.  I had one rule:  don't wake me up unless there is blood to show me.  I vaguely remember one day when Mark came into my room, woke me up, and shoved a pen in my hand.  "Sign here, Mom.....just sign here."  He was nine or ten years old.  He even helped me sit up.  I asked him what I was signing and he said "Mom, just sign here."  So I did.  I was so sleepy I didn't know what it was for and what it even was...I just wanted him out of our room so I could go back to sleep.  Three weeks later I get our bank statement in the mail and there it was....a cancelled check for pizza....written out by a ten year old with his mother's signature on the check.  That is when I remembered the whole thing.  I wish I had the check.  I think it is pretty funny and I smile remembering this.

My most favorite Mark story I thought about had to do with him cleaning his room.  Mark was never a neat freak....just ask his roommates....and one Friday when he came home from school when he was in junior high I really let him have it.  I was sick of looking at the mess in his room.  I told him that there was no way he was going to do anything that evening or the weekend unless that room was clean by the time I woke up to go to work that night.  Don, typical of a Friday evening after a long work week, ate dinner and went downstairs to "watch" TV(really to fall asleep).  John was in his room downstairs.  Mark whined and complained but I held my ground and told him it better be clean when I got up at 9pm.  I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime...and soon I was taking my nap before going into work.  I woke up a few hours later to the sound of a vaccuum cleaner.  I laid in my bed, smiling, patting myself on my back that I must be a good mother who was able to put the fear in God in Mark to get him to really clean his room.  I was glad that we wouldn't be fighting about this all weekend.

Then I heard a female voice.  I tried to figure out who it was but didn't recognize it.  That got me out of bed.  I opened my door and the first thing I saw was Mark, Scott and Danny Gartner, sitting at our kitchen table playing poker....there were a few other guys there and they were really having a great poker party going on...snacks, soda, and a lot of money on the table.  When I looked in Mark's room there was an unfamiliar girl...probably in her early twenties....vaccuuming Mark's room. I asked her who she was.

"I am with the Kirby vaccuum cleaner company"

I swear this is what happened.  After threatening Mark about cleaning his room....I went to bed.  Shortly thereafter the doorbell rang and Mark answered the door.  She told him that she could clean any carpet in the house for free.  Mark told her that his carpet was the worst (which it probably was) and she said that she could do that room.  Mark told her that his room was "kind of a mess" and so help me, she told him that she would help him clean it.  She needed permission from one of his parents and he explained that his dad was asleep downstairs but his mom would be up pretty soon because she had to go to work that night.  Mark told him that his brother was there so John, thinking I had arranged to have the carpet cleaned...told her it was ok.  Mark wasn't completely honest with John...but by God he got his room cleaned.

I busted up the poker party, kicked the Gartners out and told the Kirby lady she had to go.  "I have to give you a demonstration first," she told me.  I informed her in no uncertain terms that if she was dumb enough to allow a 12 year old boy to get her to clean her room then that was her problem.  I told her I had a Kirby vaccuum in the attic and I wouldn't even think about buying one.  She sat in our kitchen, not saying anything for a good half hour while I ran around getting ready for work and letting Mark have it.

I never told Mark HOW to get his room cleaned, I gave him that much.  That is pretty much how things happened for Mark.  He had this big dilemma...he had planned a poker party and his mom was on his back to clean his room.  I guess he prayed for someone to help him...or more like do it for him....and his guardian angel sent him the Kirby lady for free.

These are the things that get me through the day....remembering Mark stories.  I miss hearing the dryer going in the morning....his way of ironing his shirt for the day.  I miss my bald headed Yoda talking to me for hours into the night and saying "Think about that, Mom, just think about that".

That's what I do most of the time when I am alone....think.

I think I had my picture taken last night on my way to work.  Hoping I really did not....but knowing that if I did...I probably deserved it.  Especially where it was taken.

I know my good friend, Marcus Engel, will forgive me for writing about him here.  After all, he has written about me in his books.  It is because of him that I was so distressed in possibly getting my picture taken.

I think I had my picture taken at the intersection of Chippewa and Hampton....I was sure that the light wouldn't change before I got through the intersection....but it did.  I think that red-light camera took my picture.

It is bad enough that I may be getting a ticket in the mail....but what bothers me the most is that it happened at this intersection.

For those of you who have not read Marcus' website or any of his books....please take time to check them out.  He has an incredible story to tell....one that ultimately connected me with a very special man...and one that started at this very same intersection.

Marcus was in a horrible, horrible car accident many years ago.  Shortly after his arrival to Barnes ER I was already hearing about the young man so seriously hurt in the emergency room.  Not only did he suffer numerous injuries to his body (including crushing fractures to virtually every bone in his face), but he also lost his eyesight instantly.

I never, ever go through that intersection without thinking and remembering.  I am so upset and knew as I went through it last night that in some respect I was letting my friend down.

It won't happen again.

My Mark used to say I was the slowest driver in St. Louis. I reminded him that I have a really good driving record....and he would of course come back with "It's not the accidents you may have been in...it's the ones you probably caused behind you."  I can just hear him lecturing me about going through this particular place, trying to beat a red light.  And, once again, my Yoda would be right.

Both of my boys knew about Marcus early on.  They remember me being late for Thanksgiving dinner because I stayed over at work several hours because Marcus was going to be discharged and I wouldn't allow anyone else to send him home.  Mark also was aware that my other Marc was one of the first to lend so much support to me when my son became ill.  He still does.  I get so many emails from him...and all of them give me information and his continued support.

It is interesting because when Markie first became ill I remembered so well Marcus' mom and how strong she was...but also how hard it was.  Without her even being aware...she was a role model for me on how to act around Markie, how to talk to the doctors....and how to cry in my son's hospital room without him ever knowing.

I have probably taken care of 10, 000 or so patients in my 31 year career....but have only kept in constant contact with one.  My two most favorites were both called Mark (or Marc)...and they were my most challenging.

Mark was always afraid that Marcus and him would sometime meet and perhaps play golf.  Markie was so afraid of playing golf with Marcus because he just didn't know how he would handle it if he lost to someone who was blind.  It became somewhat of a running banter between Markie and me.  They never did meet.  I wish they had.  Both of them have so much of the same personality which is probably one reason I was so taken with Marcus.

One of the last emails I received from Marcus was pertaining to what I now call my whining about the cost of this website.  I was a little upset that it had doubled in price.  I now regret ever mentioning it here.

It doesn't matter what it costs.  I am keeping it.  I don't want to change it because it really gives me good feelings when I read of people who I don't even know posting on this website.  I especially liked the posting the other day from the kind lady who was googling golf tattoos.  I know that it will make Frankie happy that someone was interested in his special memorial to Mark.

I have also received a couple of emails, notes, from others regarding what I wrote.  I feel bad about that.  All I was doing was whining...not asking for any help for the website fees.  It is virtually nothing compared to what I have spent on other things.  Mark cost me more every month he was with us than this website ever does and in a peculiar sort of way.....I enjoy having something about Mark to pay for every month.

I like the impact that this website may have for others.  Mostly, I love the fact that I have a record of the past year as well as the days to come. 

Marcus was the first to request that I keep the website going.  I had not thought that far in advance at the time but when he posted this over a year ago....I decided then and there to maintain it for as long as I could.  It has turned into my therapy.

I can see progress.  I still think about Markie every single hour.  Sometimes, when I think about his friends continuing their lives....I feel that someone has had a birthday party and my little boy wasn't invited.  I can make myself cry easily just thinking about special events that he would be missing.

Last night, I had a young man as a patient who was born the same week Markie was.  I couldn't wait to get into his room to see what he looked like, was he working or in school, was he married.  I suppose I will be doing that for a very long time.

I have done a lot of thinking, contemplating on what could have been.  I treasure what we did have and understand that even though Markie isn't here physically.....I certainly feel him spiritually.

I am just starting to get the picture.

Last week it seemed I spent a lot of time playing a stupid game on the computer.  I really didn't have much energy to do anything else and could feel myself sinking into a place where I just felt sorry for myself.  Then, I had Internet problems after a storm and couldn't get online.  When I finally was able to do so....this site was down for maintenance.  I didn't go anywhere...I am still here.

The past couple of days I have been doing what I have found to be the very best medicine for me...I have been spending time at the pool relaxing and swimming with Michael and Danny.

Michael has turned into a fish.  I remember last year he was so wary of the water and now I just watch him as he swims around.  Yesterday, to his very delight, he would swim underwater and was finding money.  He found 19 cents and said he was rich.  He was so excited.

When I took the boys to the concession stand, there was a very nice woman there who knew both of the boys and their names.  She said she likes to watch Danny jump off the side of the pool and then float on his back.  Just like his uncle, he has people that no one else may know...but know him.

Many years ago John and Mark's babysitter was ill and I had to find a replacement for a couple of months until Charlotte could take them back.  I called St. Francis and got their babysitter list and called a lady that was highly recommended by a couple of my friends from St. Anne's Sodality.  I told her my situation and that I needed someone only three afternoons a week.  I told her my name, the ages of my boys.  She said she was "trying to place who we were" and after a few more comments she said "You're Mark's mom!"   Mark was three or four at the time,  and she didn't know Don, John or me....but she knew Mark.

Michael talks to me about Mark quite a bit.  Sometimes I initiate it..sometimes he does.  It is important for me that Michael remembers his memories of Mark and I try to reinforce those memories.  He remembers Mark being well...and being sick..and told me when I asked which "Mark' he liked best....he says "both."  Me too.

Danny, I feel, will always know Mark because he is just Mark all over again.  His actions, his sense of no fear, the way he looks up to his older brother.  Tabitha told me that last week Danny asked her if her tooth was better....and Tabby told him it was.  "How did it get better?"  Tabby told him God made it better.  After several minutes of watching his cartoons, he then asked Tabitha "How come God didn't make Uncle Mark better?"  I know that Danny remembers Mark...and remembers where certain things were in Mark's room....but both Don and I felt so good that Danny at his very young age...questions why he lost his uncle.

I will never put Mark's illness or death in a place where I don't think about it, talk about it, or wonder about it everyday.  I have many of the same questions Daniel has and even though I have a strong faith I also have a very real open source of pain that I know will never ever heal.

Sometimes I miss him so much I cannot stand it.  I think that is why I was surprised the other day when I realized it was July 1st.....in the previous months I couldn't see past June.

I have spent a great deal of time over the past months wondering if I were the very very best mother I could have been for Mark....and for John as well.  I have come to realize that the hardest thing for any parent to do is make their child feel safe.  I know there were times that Mark probably didn't feel "safe".  I think that is when it hurts me the most.

I recall talking with Mark about different things that made me feel as though I still needed to keep him from hurt and harm.  He asked me at one point in April about organ donation...and that if something happened to him maybe he should sign his driver's license and have his organs donated.  I knew that they would never ever use his organs.  I didn't want to tell him yes...but didn't want to tell him no.  I didn't want him to feel bad that he couldn't help anyone else. I just told him that because he had chemo...they probably wouldn't use  them.  It was easier to blame chemo than cancer.

I really think that is the hardest part of motherhood....keeping and having your child feel safe.  Keeping them safe when you have them here with you.  Keeping them safe when they are in Heaven is a totally different concept and one that I continue to try to do.

For me, that entails keeping his spirit around us and keeping the memories alive.  I know that there are many people who think of him, think of us.  I know many of his friends miss him and many who only knew him a little, also miss him.  I know that his smile, his spirit, his illness and his death have touched many people.  I know there are many people more aware of testicular cancer (even though that is not what he really had) and have sought medical help because of Mark.

I also know that one of the reasons Little Michelle went into cancer research was because of Mark.  I would read the text messages he would send Michelle when he was so very sick in the hospital .  "Cure me" was what he would text to her....and she would reply "I'm on it."

I know that our family is stronger and our faith is stronger.  I know that I have done more thinking about who we are, who we should be, how we should be, and what to treasure than I have at any other time.

I have come to value the kindnesses of strangers I don't know.  I have told our story to countless patients and their families when they see the picture of Mark I wear on my ID.

I have so appreciated the kindnesses our friends have shown us to help us through our grief.  I feel so helpless in knowing how to thank them. I don't think there are words to convey it.

Still.....none of it so far has helped make any sense to me why this happened to Mark.

I wish every single day it had been me instead.  Every single day. 

I keep myself focused.  I try really hard to be reasonable and realize that there was nothing that I did or didn't do.  He gave me explicit instructions that I was to go on and that he would always be there.  I know he is...but sometimes that isn't good enough.

He would be furious with me if I didn't keep going and try to make each day a good day for myself and my family.  I feel better when I am out in the sunshine.

I just have to try a little harder.