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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, just to find a statue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's here !!!!

See link at left for pictures...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the first time the boys had been there.

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

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

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

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

"Uncle Mark."

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

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

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

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

"I will, Granny."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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