The phone rings.
I answer and the world changes. It was like a small 9-11 for me. It was my dad calling.
"There was a terrible accident. Mark is no long with us." WHAT? I want to scream and I did a bit. Dad kept saying he shouldn't have told me.
"It's ok, Dad. He walked the closest to God." I believed it with all my heart.
"He hung himself." I did scream. It was a shock scream. No, no, no, no!!! I didn't want to believe it. He did walk the closest to God. He...he...
My dad felt horrible he had told me, I could tell. I assured him I would call Darren right away. He had wanted me to have Darren there before he told me, but I couldn't wait to hear why Dad was calling. Besides, I assured Dad I wasn't alone because Darren's sister, Courtney, was living with us at the time. You see, I was 8 months pregnant with Brech Earl at the time. Mark was to be Brech's Godfather.
I finally tracked Darren down and had him on his way home. I sent a quick message to some friends and I started packing. I remember holding my rosary and trying to pray. At a time like that it is hard to remember even the simplest prayers when you are trying to find shirts, church shoes, underwear, and so many random things in such a short time. We cancelled my OB appointment for that week and haircuts for the boys that day. We were on the road, headed to South Dakota by Noon.
We lived in Michigan at the time. It was a long trip. The rest of that day I was in zombie mode. I prayed so many, many rosaries and Chaplets for the Dead. That night we stopped at some hotel. We had four kids already at that point. We were trying to squeeze into one room with two beds. It all worked out because what little I slept I did it while sitting upright next to Darren's bed. Poor man - he had to deal with all the kids and a pregnant wife who wouldn't let go of his hand. I just had to be near someone.
The next morning we finished our drive to South Dakota. With every exit, and I mean every single exit, I wanted to turn around. I would say in my mind, "They don't need me. We can just turn around. They will be fine without us. We can just turn around on this exit." Then Darren would drive right past it and I would start all over again. This repeated for most of Minnesota and South Dakota. The closer I got to Sturgis, the more panic-filled I felt. How could I do this? How will he look? Why must I deal with this now?
When we got to Mitchell, SD we stopped to use the bathroom. I can't remember if mom called me or I called her. Either way, I knew I could not talk to Dad again until I saw him in person. It would be too hard for me. Mom and I talked about a few details regarding the funeral and visitation as well as how everyone was doing. I also talked to my brothers at some point during the trip, either Tuesday afternoon or Wednesday. They were worried for me, being 8 months pregnant. My brother, Paul, did the drive from one side of SD to the other without anyone else, so I did talk to him to keep him company.
As we neared Rapid City I was a mess. Well, mess is an understatement. I was more like the aftermath of a hurricane followed by a fire followed by a plague of locusts. Yes, I was that bad in my opinion. My mind was a shattered version of its former self. I told Darren I needed to visit the Blessed Sacrament. We needed to stop...I needed it. So we did.
I was all alone in the church. Father had opened it for me and left. I cherish those moments more than anyone will ever know. I sat there praying as honest as I could. "God, why?" "Mary, help me." "Jesus, strengthen me with Your grace." "I don't know if I can do this." "I can't see my family. What will I say, or do." On and on I went. I prayed a rosary and a few other random prayers. Then something happened...not a miracle or anything, just something. I physically felt like I was being hugged. Like someone had put their arm around me and I was being sheltered, or cradled in their arm. I also felt like someone was holding my right hand. It was such a comfort. I have never felt anything like that before or since. It was like the Blessed Virgin Mary was hugging me and Jesus was holding my hand. I literally felt like it. Was it all in my head? I don't know. I only spent 30-40 minutes in there. I would have spent longer, but I had to go to the bathroom and the basement was locked. Pregnant women anyway!
Here's the amazing thing. I went in broken and in pain, so sure the world had ended and I was just a zombie. I came out that short time later feeling 10 feet tall and bullet proof. No one was going to get me down. I believed in God's mercy. I believed in God's love. I believed in God's healing power. Everything was going to be alright.
We finished our trip to my parents' house. Pulling into the driveway was hard. I knew all my siblings were going to be there, but my parents were making arrangements at the funeral home. The first thing I did was walk in and said, "Who needs a Mark hug?" This was a shock to my brothers. You see, I guess they had discussed how I was going to be a mess. (ha ha! I was before my visit to the Blessed Sacrament.) They were shocked when I came in as strong as an oak tree. (Thank you, God!) Later that evening I sat on the deck with my sisters. Poor Juliana was having a very hard time with it. I am glad I was there for her.
The next morning was hard. We made arrangements for music, which I picked. If anyone ever wonders about music for my funeral, I want the same as Mark's funeral had. We talked and prayed together. We remembered. We laughed, we cried. My dad hadn't told those around home how Mark had died. I was asked a couple of times and had to tell them. That was hard. We called friends far away and close to home. Some of my dad's brothers and sisters came to visit. Then we went to view Mark's body at the funeral home. I remember my Uncle Rob told me that before we left to view Mark's body there was a heavy sadness in the house. When we came back it was as though peace and happiness had taken over our home again. I know that I did a lot of healing during that viewing. Later that night some of us siblings had a talk. Some of the kids wanted to go to the barn together the next day. Mark had died in the barn and they wanted to see where. We had a long discussion Thursday night about that. When I was five years old my baby brother, Blase, died. He was sharing a room with me at the time. I knew where his crib was. I can remember those details, even though I am 30 years older now. I told my siblings that if they wanted to know where Mark had died, in detail, they would have to put Dad through telling them and then they would never forget it. I told them I thought it wasn't fair to Dad. Since Dad had found Mark, this was Dad's cross to carry and he should not have to share it with anyone unless he chooses to himself. Also, I assured them they would not forget. They will always and forever walk into that barn and know. It will not leave them. It will not get easier because they know those details. They decided in the end that they were not going to ask Dad. I am not sure if anyone ever has asked, but I have not and never will. Funny thing about this whole conversation is that no one wanted to go unless they had an older brother or sister with them. Granted, half of the siblings weren't in the conversation, but I was getting this sense that they were waiting for me to say I would go with them. It was planned to go the next morning, before the day got too busy. We told everyone to meet us at some time I can't remember - 7 maybe? 8? We were all go together. Everyone, but John and Adam chose to go with us. John said he would wait until Mom was ready to go. I am glad he waited and I am still in awe over his self-less reason. Adam said he wanted to go by himself. That night I talked with Mauri for a bit until Juliana needed me. I slept on the double recliner couch with Juliana that night. She only slept if I held her hand. Just like I was the first night with Darren. That night I got 45 minutes of sleep. Long, short, something or another kind of night.
The next morning I got up early so that I could go out to the barn before everyone else. I wanted to make sure that when we walked in there were no obvious signs. I know that Dad would have made sure of that already, but the big sister in me had to make sure for the sake of my siblings. I walked out there by myself. Hardest. thing. yet. To face that without support from others was a true test of my strength. You wouldn't think it was that hard, but it was. When the others came out with me the second time it was amazing. You see we were very quiet at first. Then someone, either Luke or Dirk, said something funny. We talked about memories of Mark in the barn and memories of the rest of us too. Dirk and I talked about the bucket calves we had and how the barn was arranged then. We actually walked away from the scene of Mark's death laughing and a bit stronger than before.
That day was hard, too. It was the public visitation. Mauri and I went as soon as it started around Noon and stayed for the whole afternoon. I felt it was important for everyone else to have someone to hug and talk to. Mark's death wasn't just a normal situation. I had hoped it would help others accept it easier if they could talk about it. The rosary was after the visitation. We had lots of people come, which was beautiful! I am so happy they came. It couldn't have been easy for them to see our family and see Mark. The most beautiful part of the whole evening - the moment that Juliana reached over during the rosary and put her arm on Adam because he was having a hard moment. We were truly there for each other during this time. When it was all said and done I had spent over 9 hours with Mark's body that day. Longest. day. ever. With only 45 minutes of sleep, going to the barn, and 9 hours at the funeral home - I was ready for sleep.
The funeral was amazing. My dad stood up and said some of the most touching words. I wish I could remember all of them. Even though our family was grieving he made sure to see to the needs of others. He said that everyone had asked us what could they do for us and he said that what wanted most was that everyone take their worries about money and their job, about the outside world and family problems and send them outside the church. Allow only the peace of heaven to fill the entire church. He said all of this before they had brought up Mark's casket. That means he was the first in our family to see the casket closed. To stand up and say those things looking at the casket must have been so very hard. I was so proud of him that day. It was the best day and worst day for so many reasons. All the siblings, including one cousin who was more like a sibling to Mark, served as pall bearers. We watched as they lowered the casket into the ground. Hard. Final. So very, very final. We had a nice luncheon afterwards. We were blessed to have many friends and family come and support us that day.
The next day, Sunday, we attended Mass and headed back to Michigan. Short week, long week. It was a grace-filled experience. Mark's death has brought about many good things. I can only hope that his death will serve as a reminder to all about treasuring the moments you have with your family. A reminder that all life is precious, including your own. A reminder of God's mercy, love, and grace.
For the first time in six years I didn't felt guilty last night for not spending hours in prayer or thought about Mark and those who miss him. I did something for myself instead without the guilt I would have felt. Normally I feel like if I pray or think about Mark it will make up for him being alone that night six years ago. That night when no one was with him in his last hours. Six years later, I'm still crying. I did my typical morning of the 19th routine. I read through my previous blog posts about Mark. I cried and smiled. Then I typed out this post. The only difference from today than from the previous years is that for the first time the 19th falls on a Tuesday, just like the day he actually died. For the first time I am reliving this week on the exact same days as we lived them.
As always - Mark, I miss you.
Mark, I love you.
For the other posts I've written about Mark please follow this link.
http://treasuresforheaven.blogspot.com/search/label/Mark
God bless you today. If you are missing Mark - God please comfort. If you are still mad and question the why - God please heal. If you are fine - God please strengthen. May we all have comfort, healing, and strength. You are all in my prayers and thoughts. Thank you for the same.
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