If I talk loud enough, will he hear me :)

     I found myself driving to work yesterday and almost daily while I am driving up toward the Mission with the sun shining brightly, and early morning looking like an amazing day on the rise - I think of Mark.  I have begun to believe that God put him in charge of the weather :)  Be it a beautiful sunrise, or sunset, or unbelievable beautiful weather on our central coast - and any day that is a spectacular golf day, I want to believe that Mark has something to do with it.  Anyway, what I believe and whatever it is that is true doesn't matter - what happens on a regular basis when the morning is beautiful and I find myself thinking of him, I talk out loud - really loud, to my brother.  I yell while driving at the top of my lungs in the hopes that he can hear me, that he is looking down and laughing at me while I drive and talk to him.
     I have learned to control this behavior because if I get too involved, I get angry. He is gone, I always wonder why, I try to justify to myself that it was for a reason (not) and that I am doing just fine. If I get too loud and crazy, people in the other cars notice, and on many occasions they know me and just give me that "crazy" smile.
     He hears me, I know it - and although I am better than I have been, I am not always fine.  I may act it, but I will never be "fine" with this - I miss you Mark brother - can you hear me now?

I wasn't done talking to him yet.

     This past weekend I started to look into buying new golf clubs.  Initially I would have called Mark and gotten the low down, instead I emailed Nate and Mikey to see what their thoughts were.  It wasn't my first choice, but it would have to do.

     Sunday I had this terrific idea, (because it is nearing the time for me to return to work) to bake some pies.  I have a new double oven, I could go crazy, why not?   I have realized lately that my blogs have pretty much been about Mark and "The Journey" but I really do love to cook!  I continued on my research for recipes for big pies, little pies, pies in jars, pies on a stick maybe, all flavors, hopefully some that are better for you than others, but pies none the less.  I found myself wanting to talk to Mark about this as well, but instead I got out his cookbook.  You see, when he passed away all I really wanted was his cookbook and I had glanced thru it a few times, enough to notice that it always falls open to the pages about Thanksgiving turkey, but I really wanted to read it now.   This turned out to be mostly a bad idea.  I came across recipes in his hand writing, pages he had marked that I wondered - did he make this soup, or was he going to make this soup?  There were grocery lists, and measurements and just papers with random words, there were pages from magazines and newspaper clippings from the Sunday morning Oregonian of things he must have liked and saved in the book.  I could imagine him sitting reading the paper on Sunday morning, talking to himself about the state of affairs the world was in, and then savorying the food section, we were very much alike in that respect, and we always saved it until last - "read the doom and gloom" he would say, "and then get down to the meat and potatoes".   He was funny like that.   I wished we had talked more about recipes, we spoke almost every day, but I find myself more often than not, whispering to myself during these days, "I wasn't done talking to you yet".

    The book is my cherished posession from my brother, it tells many tales, we spoke about it often and the things he cooked for the kids are in there, little tid bits of knowledge about cooking and the world can be found between the pages, but it ALWAYS makes me cry.   This too shall pass I continue to tell myself.  Not the memories or the sneaky smiles or words of wisdom that I can hear in my head in that big red cookbook,  but the crying - you see as Mark would say "we are ugly cryers",  my answer to that would be,  I don't care how ugly I am when I cry - at least I can cook!

     So, there were no pies that day and I am still on the quest for new golf clubs - but I made a killer artichoke dip and we all thanked Marky boy for it!

Time flys and stands still all at the same time.

     It's been exactly 6 months since my brothers passing, and I still look at his pictures and utter the word, shit.....
     It isn't as if I didn't know it was coming, I have pretty much marked everyday this year with the same gauge, such as  - one month before he got really sick, during the month he was really sick, right before the end, the end, the week after his death, one month after his death......  You get the picture.

     It's been hard and I suppose because I am now off for the summer and the memorial services have been concluded, the friends and family have gone back home and my house is empty so I just get to be alone with my thoughts.  Sometimes too alone.  It has it's ups and downs, I have been thinking about my health which is a good thing because since the beginning of 2011 it has been a real challenge for me to put one foot in front of the other, much less put on my running shoes and get motivated to do much.  But, 24 days ago I started a no caffeine, no sugar, no flour, no soda, no alcohol, kick and I began back on the treadmill.  Today I can tell you that I am 8 pounds lighter and can run my regular 3 mile run and pretty much still want to run some more, I feel great.

     It doesn't bring Mark back, but in my small little mind I guess I am trying to do some of things that he and I talked about during our last month together - he had wished he could have conquered the hill near his house at least once in the past 5 years.  He had wished he could have lost some weight because he had tried to not because the medicines that ravished his body made him, he had wished he could walk about and see the trees and flowers and blue skies without tiring so quickly, but we all know about wishes.....

     So, tonight in honor of my brother I will break one of my new rules and pour one of our favorite drinks, Crown and Dr. Pepper and toast a man that I miss beyond comprehension because I loved him the same way.  Cheers Mark brother where ever you may be -

It was a Memorial to Remember...

for a man we will never forget.  After months of planning and preparation, arrivals of nephews and nieces, aunts and uncles, children from coast to coast, and so many friends that it was overwhelming - we lay Mark brother to rest in Lompoc this past Friday.
It was a beautiful day, the weather cooperated to the best it could - and there must have been 130+ people here to enjoy the food and drink, friendships and stories and laughter.  Mark would have been proud, he would have been tickled to see people gathered together, talking about old times, planning on having new times together and just plain enjoying one another.

I will miss him always.  I am so happy and proud of the things he has taught me, and also for the lessons he continues to teach me about myself and our families, even now that he is gone.  But, he would have loved the way we celebrated him - friends and family, food and golf - it could not have gone better.

Appropriately during the day many people left to watch nephew Dalton play in the quarter final CIF baseball game held in town on that day as well. It was so great to be able to have the game in town, have relatives that had not seen him play were able to watch what may have been his final high school baseball game.   After an unbelievable try for a fly ball that was missed on young Daltons part that cost the team two runs, one of them being the go ahead run,  there must have been someone watching out for him as he then stepped up to bat in the bottom of the 7th with two outs and drove in the winning go ahead run to win the game 3-2.  Chaos, and all the while I KNOW Mark was watching - it was a grand day!  As Mark would say "and the crowd went wild!"

Now it is on to life as we have grown to know it.  Elizabeth will stay the week and I will watch her belly grown with my new grandniece in it - Nate will continue his stay through graduation day, continuing to make his stay something I will cherish forever.  Vic has returned to Johns Hopkins and the job she adores, and our new found Ashley - Nates girl, will start her new job tomorrow in Oregon where she and Nate will set up house and begin anew.  I really like her and hope that she continues to be good for Nate and they share continued happiness.  Marks friends enjoyed their time together with our family, hit the small white ball around in the wind during their stay - and we drank more wine that maybe we should have.  One thing I know for sure - we will "Just keep playing" at the game of life that Mark loved.  We will do it for Mark, and maybe more importantly, we will do it for ourselves because it is what he would want.

Cheers Mark Brother - I love you!

Portland without my directional gyro.....

     We have just returned from the Portland memorial service for my brother.  My nieces and nephew did a fantastic job of planning, he would be very, very proud of them.  It was held at Lewis & Clark college right near when Mark first lived in the dorms during his stay there - so many memories came flooding back to me as we sat and visited with the many, many people that were so nice to have attended.

      The weekend was one of many realizations or course, Mark not being there to plan and organize us and all our activities was one of the more noticiable.  Phillip needed a shirt and Steve wanted a new jacket and after driving around for almost and hour and a half we ended up where we would have been originally had we taken a left and not a right!  We had short tempers, we apologized for those - we were lost little puppies - that, I won't apologize for - I miss my brother.  It was my first time returning to Portland since Mark's death and it was the strangest feeling to land at the airport and not have him there to pick us up.  To try to drive by memories of what things looked like as I drove around with him so many times over the past 25 years, and actually get to some destination.  It was different but even in the bad times I tried to be thankful for the things that Mark taught me without even knowing.  I knew what direction things were, I could hear his voice in my head talking, alway talking as we drove the streets of Portland and surrounding areas - he was there, he always will be and I know after surviving the weekend that he will live in my heart and mind - forever.

     Rest well sweet brother, I love you.

Coming home

     It was a trip I will never forget.  It isn't a request most people get but it was that of my brother when he asked that I bring the portion of his ashes that are to be in Lompoc - home.  I had been in Portland for 26 days, I missed my husband, I missed my house, I missed my life - I am still missing my brother, but I was ready to come home.  I had stayed with the kids to try to help in tying up loose ends and closing down the house, spending some "normal" time together since Mark's passing.  We had even had a few very nice dinners - one in celebration of Victoria getting her new job at Johns Hopkins and the other on our final night together before we all left the next day.  It has been a huge emotional journey for me, for all of us actually and I will never ever regret the fact that I choose to spend this time with the kids, my brother and his Portland.  My nieces have grown to be AMAZING young people, spending some quality time with Billy makes me understand why Liz things that he hung the moon.  Nate is a strong guy and will do well with helping to take care of his sisters and our family in a way that will continue to make my brother proud.  Eventually, we will all be "better".
     I am still not sure what I had expected when I was asked to bring my brothers ashes home.  I do know that possibly because I was exhaused and not thinking exactly clearly, I went to my suitcase and cleared the entire thing out.  I boxed up my clothes and sent them home via UPS - I did not want my brother in my suitcase with my "under things" - that just didn't seem appropriate.  I also don't know what I was thinking in clearing the ENTIRE thing out, but I did.  So, you can only imagine the giggles when the girls and I met after our dinner together to hug good byes and exchange the ashes - which, came in a container about the size of an old 35mm film canister.  I believe it was Liz that piped in "I guess he wasn't as substaintial in size as we had thought" - it was bittersweet, it was real life, it was a huge learning experience.
     I decided to bring him home in my purse, so with my empty suitcase in hand I arrived at the Portland airport with sufficient time in case there were questions regarding my "passenger".  I had appropriate paperwork, labels etc. and I had no problems and boarded and we were ready for take off on time.
     Huge butterflies were in my stomach and as I looked out the window of the plane as we taxied down the runway and I started to cry.  I had gone to Portland to see my brother, I was leaving and would never ever see him again.  I had grown to love Portland and the surrounding areas and I wasn't now sure when I would return, or how it would be when I did.  I was ALONE for the first time in 26 days, it was a strange feeling.  I had been busy with everyone else, I had tended to everyone else, I had not spent time with myself and my feelings - I continued to cry.
     As we took off I looked toward the cemetary in Portland where my brother had a terrific view of the river, the airport, Mt. Hood and his beloved city and I whispered good bye for the last time, and I continued to cry.  The woman next to me in the seat never said a word, but at some point she reached over and held my hand - and I continued to cry.
     It was an overcast day in Portland but as we took off and went up over the clouds it was absolutely gorgeous.  The sky was so blue it hurt your eyes, the clouds white and puffy and floating around and the sun was bright and you could absolutely see forever.  I thanked Mark for the beautiful view, I imagined he must be enjoying it too.  As we continued the flight and I looked down on the beauty below and all around, it dawned on me that we were taking the same route "home" that Mark had driven so very many times.  You could see the coast of Oregon on one side and the mountains covered in snow on the other - we flew very near Yosemite, a place that Mark and I shared such a special bond over.  Down the state of California into the Bay Area, a place that Mark loved and where his favorite A's play.  We flew out over the San Francisco Bay and turned inland toward Napa and Pleasanton, places that he loved and where his kids had been born and raised.  Then into San Jose and then down over Central California where he had spent so much time, I was still crying but I was thinking what a wonderful flight Mark was having in his actual "coming home" trip.  We then entered our descent into Burbank, right near the area where he lived in Southern California as well, he was truly going home.  At some point I had stopped crying and I was smiling thinking about what a huge honor this had been to bring Mark home on his "free Southwest" air flight - he would have been tickled to know that he had gotten a free flight!
     Steve picked me up at the airport in Burbank - I was happy to be there.  I explained the trip down to him and he knew exactly what I meant, Mark loved these places.  After we continued to drive North again, visiting places that he would have known as well, we could not resist stopping at In and Out Burger.  So, with Mark in my purse we made a final trip into his beloved In and Out, he felt at "home" there as well.
     I may be crazy, but it was meant to be.  It made something that was about as painful as can be into a beautiful experience that I shared alone with my brother for the last time.
     Life IS good.
    

It will never be the same.....

     The Doctors gave him three to five years - he made it to five, but now he is gone.

     Mark passed away this evening and my heart is truly broken.  My heart is heavy for the people I love, my eyes constantly fill with tears.  How can tomorrows come and go day after day and he isn't in my life anymore?

     He passed peacefully and on his own time, in his own way, at his home with family around him.  It is amazing, death - just as birth is, an absolutely amazing process and I would not have changed spending the past 18 days with him for anything in my life.  I would change the outcome if I could, but it's a done deal now and I have more amazing memories of time spent with him, talking to him, traveling with him than one person should be allowed to have.  He taught me more than any one person in my life ever has - even in his passing I learned the true meaning of faith - he had it, he shared it, he never gave up, he just kept playing.  He was a hero and a trooper.

     One Christmas he gave me a plaque "I love you to the moon" - you said it Mark brother, peace to you - I will see you again, until then "just keep playing".

It's New Years Eve in Portland, Oregon.

     I wish I could say Happy New Year, but my heart just isn't in it.  I spoke to Steve and the girls earlier today - I am happy that they are enjoying their camp trip and New Year as much as they can, I am sad to have missed the time together.

     It has become very obvious to everyone now that Mark will loose his battle with colon cancer very, very soon.  Since arriving here I have seen the decline go from a fairly good week, to days, to now hours and I am sure we will be looking forward to minutes of decline in the progression of his disease.  He is a trooper, he has such a positive attitude it is amazing how he continues to teach me, even during this amazing time.  His love for all of us is evident in everything he does, his touch, the looks - the small times of conversation.  He is truly an amazing, amazing person - but then I hear that god only takes the BEST.

     It will be Marks 58th birthday in two days, he has lived a good life - it just hasn't been long enough.

Carrie. It's time.

It was just a week ago that Mark was sitting on top of the world, calling me from the golf course and having a grand day.

What a difference a week makes I guess because today I got the call.  "I need you here Carrie Ellen, I know it's the holidays but I can't do this without you here".  My heart sank, my throat tightened and the biggest tears welled in my eyes - and thru the lump in my throat the size of Texas I said "OK".   Thankfully he then said - "just start getting ready please, the kids are coming and mom and dad, and then I want you, can you plan on that,  please?"   The part of that I will never forget is the "please" at the end - did he REALLY feel that he had to ask me "please?"  I'll always remember the please, I hope he will always remember the "yes".

It's Pouring, I'm getting older, but I shot an 85....

     A phone conversation that cracked me up!  He's a crazy man and geez does he know how to have fun.  His trip a bit south of Portland to play golf with friends he says is really turning into a great day - despite the Oregon rain, which for some reason seemed to really bother him.  He shot an 85 and had a great time but said he can feel himself getting older, but is still wise - or course I said, along with my usual "well, tell me how it is because you will always be OLDER than me".  I mentioned that it was probably the weather, after all with all your time off recently you have become a "fair weather" golfer and he laughed and agreed.

     I am tickled about what I found this year for Mark's Christmas/Birthday gift.  While in a vintage store I found an electric train complete with the track, cars, switching box etc. It soooo reminds me of one that he had when he was young, he is gonna be so surprised.  I shipped it off and he should have it when he gets home from this little trip he is on, and before the kids arrive for the holidays.  It will go GREAT under the aluminum tree with the color carousel I got him a few years ago.  Merry Christmas Marky Boy!

     Not much else going on with us, getting ready for the holidays and Timber is coming to visit.  We will take her to Disneyland for the very first time, take our new motor home out for the trip and have Mackenzee come along to help with activities for Timber.  I am so looking forward to it.  Steven rarely takes time off unless I actually plan out things to do so I think he is looking forward to it as well.  We are a bit hesitant about taking the motor home to LAX to pick up the granddaughter, but I am sure it will work out.  Lots to do in the mean time - I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas.

Resection my colon please

     My brothers surgery went as well as can be expected.  The doctor cut out the 95% of the colon tumor and looked around I guess then put him back together and into recovery.  I spoke to him when he "thought" he was coming around, however the conversation was that of someone on drugs and it made me laugh.  He noted that laughing wasn't something he had done in awhile and now wasn't the time to start - "it hurts".  Big baby I told him.

     Some days in the hospital, some tests and then he will meet with the doctors and know more about what will happen next.

     I really have nothing new going on in my life, or anything I can really remember to write about.  I am consumed with the news Mark continues to get - I can't put thoughts or sentences together.  I only wish this to be over.  I can only imagine what Mark wants :)

Come to Oregon, let me rock your world.

     He might as well have said this straight out, because when he told me what he told me, the words became a blur anyway.

     We started the morning in Washington State and got up early to make a run to the grocery store prior to returning to Mark's house in Portland and having a meeting with our group that was going to Napa in February.   I should have know something was up when our first stop was Starbucks for a coffee.  Mark never really went to Starbucks, he wasn't all that keen on my drinking coffee, but it was a nice gesture.

     So, as we drove down the freeway in the early morning haze, making idol chit chat, he then rocked my world.  "Carrie Ellen, I have stage 4 colon cancer - I will have surgery, I will probably do chemo, it's going to be a challenge and a journey but everything is going to be alright", he said this all in one breath.  I will NEVER, EVER forget the way he spoke.  The words he said, the inflection in his voice - the smell of my coffee, and the tears that welled  in my eyes.  The lump in my throat was enormous, the tears in my eyes fell like HUGE drops that I could almost hear, and my mind was whirling.  I asked some questions - how did he feel, when did he know, what else could he tell me?  Honestly, much of the rest of the conversation was a blur but I do remember that he touched my hand, he spoke softly and confident which made the news that I knew in my heart was horrid, a bit soft around the edges.  He asked if I was OK, told me again that it was going to be OK and that we would talk some more later after it sunk in a bit.  The knife that went in wasn't turning, wasn't coming out sharply - it as just there.

     As quickly as this all happened we then exited the freeway and went to the market.  As we parked the car he told me that I was in charge of appetizers  for the evening meal.  In my mind I wondered what I could buy, what I could make - I had no idea how to put two and two together at this point, my mind was absolutely mush.  Mark went from item to item, knowing exactly what he wanted gathering the food for the evening meal.  I silently fell apart inside, yet trying to go through the motions as he did, after all he was my older brother and had always taught me by example.  This however, was a lesson I could have never wished to have learned.  I hated it, the day was quickly turning to shit.

      I never want to forget that day.  I learned later that he had only told Judy and not yet the kids or mom and dad.  I was a safe haven he told me - thanks but no thanks Mark Brother, safe was not a feeling I am having just now.  He asked me to help with the explanations with mom and dad, Craig and Dana and any others that would have questions.  He said that practicing telling me was a way to help in getting around to telling the kids - god how I would NOT want to have that conversation.  He was so strong about it all.  I know that in his heart of heart at some time he must have fallen apart, but you would never know it to talk to him.  He was positive, he was exact - we talked about it and then we didn't again that day, we just went about our day, getting ready for a dinner party and organization of our trip to Napa in February.

     That night we ate an amazing dinner, drank great wine and entertained his friends with discussion and focus on our Napa trip.  Never did we talk about cancer again that night - but I caught myself staring at my brother in a completely different way.  He is still my amazing brother - but he has cancer.  I will believe what he told me and I could only believe that everything would be alright.

     I went to bed and cried my eyes out.  I sobbed quietly in the room that Liz and Vic had always slept in - I wanted to wish it away.  I wanted him never to have to tell the kids, I could only imagine how they would feel since I knew how it had rocked my world.  I called Steve and cried into the phone, I felt awful that he was so far away and had to listen to me blubber, but he did.  I think I fell asleep with the phone to my ear, and my heart broken.

     I stayed for three more days.  We walked, we talked and he explained to me exactly what was going to happen and when.  We went to dinner, we spent time together, we hung out in downtown Portland and at some point during those days, he called our parents and the kids.  As I sat in the living room listening to the conversations my heart broke into a million pieces, both for him and for each of the people he spoke to on the other end of the phone.  As I listened and looked, I was so very proud of him - he was entering the unknown and he didn't act the least bit afraid, which I thought I would had I been in his shoes.  He was my big brother and he continued to act like it, he took care of me when it really should have been the other way around.

     He took me to the airport as he had so many times before. I love this guy, he has been the only constant person I have ever had in my life and I told him so that day.  I can remember him saying "Missy, you are pretty special to me too".

     OK Marky boy, talk to you soon......