Dark Side of the Moon

This is my third attempt today, and I realized after seeing Marybeth today that I could write chapters about the arc of our lives together. And every time I try and put something down, I fail. He was just so special to me and my boys that words get jumbled and meaning drops off, and I have to stop. I have so many great, loving memories to share. But I think that will have to wait.

Mark was my accomplished cousin, my children's "Uncle Mark", my matchmaker, my running buddy, my co-founder, my confidante, my Olympic's partner, drinking buddy, my hero. Mark was there for me during the toughest times of my life. A constant. I am at a loss to explain him or how he touched through some anecdote of our time together. There is just so much to share.

Mark introduced me music; Pink Floyd, Traffic, U2 and Joss Stone. Mark was an incredibly complex, private, boisterous, loving man. He was my center and he changed the trajectory of my life, and my boy's lives. And then he left California to chase his dream of entering the music industry in a big way. And we stayed close, but distance has its ways to separate people. Even best friends.

About five years ago, Mark decided he would not include me in his life. I kept thinking it was something I had done, and continued to reach out. He was fighting his illness and while I tried to stay connected, I never heard from him again. Mark accomplished so much in spite of this handicap; or maybe because of it sometimes. I just don't know.

Mark's illness was our family illness. Is our family illness. It is something my family has dealt with in pockets throughout our lives. It is less shameful than when I learned about my grandmother as a young girl, but it still has its stigma. I am hopeful if we acknowledge it and talk about it, we can help others who are struggling and fighting.