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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said,  as I was there,..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is until today.

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

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

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

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

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

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

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

It is one of my most favorite possessions. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From Debbie A.

 

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

 

Let’s see..from the message board,

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

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

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

(that was our favorite one!)

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

 

His heart was in Columbia with Barb/Don..

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

.

Here’s the story:

 

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

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

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

(see photo in link on left)

 

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

 

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

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