I don't remember when I didn't know Mark. We were all sort of thrown together as kids by virtue of a mutual aunt and uncle. I'm sure my ten year old self thought "I'm not REALLY related to him so I could marry him one day". But that was never who we were. We were friends through every phase of our lives. As kids on the Vineyard, in Boston at college ( he at Harvard and me at the lesser known Boston College). Weddings and funerals were common ground. I think I visited him everywhere he lived, except Peru, not because we made some grand plan but because I was there and of course we would see each other. My mother still remembers visiting DC and leaving me in the middle of Georgetown, long before cell phones and Ubers, riding away on the back of Mark's bike. Unsure if she would ever see me again off we rode into the night. She worried, we had fun and eventually sometime in the wee hours of the morning I found my way back. Mark and I could go months without talking but no matter how long it was it was always familiar and seamless. He has been constant throughout my life, a touchstone.
There were times I thought Mark was the most perfect human being I knew. ...smart, handsome, athletic, fun, generous and kind. And I must admit there were times when he was, well, a jerk. The highs and lows, the ebbs and flows of Mark were often frustrating and misunderstood, at least by me. But as the years have passed I now understand why it did often feel like you did something wrong. I recently reread Mark's cousin Marcy's entry and I absolutely understand how she felt. He pulled away from me also over the past several years. Except for an occasional quick email it seemed impossible to coneect with him. I remember saying to Jack, my husband, "If I don't hear from Mark this Christmas then I'm done.". But I was never done. How could I be? I like to think that his absence in so many people's lives was perhaps a gift from him. A way to make losing him easier. But nothing about this has been easy. I've worried about him and missed him over the past few years. Never knowing exactly where he was, if he was suffering. I no longer worry about him and I know he has found peace. But I certainly continue to miss him every day.
" Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure
harmony and music inside me." Vincent Van Gogh
thank you...