My Heart Still Aches

Posted to my Facebook Timeline today:


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• Nicole Church, Paige Namuth, Jennifer Lene Van Vleet and 2 others like this.
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  Monica Snider Gonzalez Rest In Peace Mark

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  Roxie StepinMaebe McBroom Rest in peace Mark, what a blessing your last time together was

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  Roseanna Torres Prayers of comfort for you.

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  Sandy Harrison Mark died in 2008. Gosh doesn't seem like 7 years has gone by already. Thinking of loved ones that have left seems to have a timeless effect, don't ya think?

P

Today is the death anniversary of my brother Mark Walker. He died of an abdominal aneursym at the NP Flying J Truckstop, in North Platte, NE, where he and brother Carl had stopped for a meal while on their way back from attending the funeral of our cousin, Cindy, only the day before in our home town of Ogallala, NE. My heart still aches but I also marvel at the timing. Mark had been on the transplant list for a liver and so we weren't surprised when he left us before his name came up but we were surprised it was an aneursym that claimed him. We were all reeling from the sudden loss of our cousin but her death blessed me with precious time with my brothers Mark & Carl. The morning of Mark's death, he and I and Carl sat on the front porch of my home and talked about years of memories. Mark made some amends that morning to Carl & I and spoke of the amends he knew he still needed to make to others but didn't want to make wounds bigger. The sun was shining that beautiful morning and we siblings were healing right there in its light. When the boys headed home, we were all crying and hugging and so glad that we had that amends & memory time. We had NO CLUE that after the boys stopped and visited Aunt Grace & Uncle Al, that Mark would be leaving us during that stop to eat his favorite meal, chicken fried steak & eggs. A meal that he was restricted from. He was not suppose to eat protein because of his liver disease and he had a lot of protein that weekend. I smile when I think of his rebellion on his diet ... and how it wasn't the reason for his leaving ... I smile because that was Mark; a rebel soul that was tamed over the years by the consequences of choices that he paid a high price for, who tried to make the changes needed but often fell short of the goal. Something I still identify with. Well, brother Mark, I am comforted that God seen your suffering and knew you had paid the price long enough and gave you rest from your pain. But my heart still aches.

This last picture was taken in October 2007. Our youngest brother Donny, came from AZ and Carl, Mark, and Sue came from Lincoln so we could all meet with Dr Colglazier at the Grant, NE hospital to have a family conference regarding Mom. That conference was the most stressful experience ever and not because we were discussing Mom's health and future care but because we were all tramatized by the inappropriate, unprofessional display of abusive anger from a doctor! Carl, Mark and I were familiar with such rage but shocked that what was perpetrated on us as lil tikes was now being slammed at us as worried adult family members. But that is a memory I'm not wanting to reflect on in this posting. I just wanted to post a picture of all of us together just months before Mark died. Mark's wife, Sue Walker is taking this picture. 

So I went to my picture files from that weekend and pulled up one from when we were working on Mom's home during that same time. I will never forget the support of family during a difficult time that Mom was going through. Again, we had no clue we'd be back together the following year in May for ...

Love and Peace Dear Brother Mark 

AND THE LOST FIND EACH OTHER

FINALLY! When Mark died a year ago, it catapulted us into a rush of plans, mistakes (I didn't have Mark's birthday correct in the Keith Co News obituary!), and trying to contact everyone. I had to leave some names off the quickly published obituary in Ogallala because I couldn't get information needed before it went to print.

We did all the planning and all arrangements with out the help of a mortuary. They assisted us in caring for Mark but we picked him up from the home and the rest was on us. I learned from this experience that the help of a trusted mortuary can lighten the grieving load tremendously!!! It is now my prayer to get my preparations completed soon, so my loved ones never go through the stress we experienced in losing Mark before we were ready. I will stop using the excuse...is anyone ever ready!

ANYWAY....losing Mark was hard enough, and added to our grief was the inability to connect and locate all of his children. So, finally, Tonya found Momma Sue on MySpace this week and yesterday, she and I had our first phone call in more than 7 years. It was very emotional for this Aunt Sandy, and I agree with Momma Sue's posting on Facebook, "Thank You, Lord!"

MARK YOU CAME FULL CIRCLE FROM THE SOUTH

A fence line blocks the free roam, we youths of yesteryears had of the sandhills of Nebraska. So it was, that day in April of 2008, when we watched you, Mark, taken away on the wind of an impending spring storm, intermingled with rose petals all swirling together...up, up,.......WHOSH! Aside, from the strong wind, it was, for me, a most awesome experience. Aside, from the sadness of heart, it was a powerful closing on a life full of turbulance and extremes....a life that touched many!

There, looking South, the fence, the post....there's Sue's rose, dried to the most deep red. It would eventually succomb to the elements, like the wind...or maybe you, Mark?

One can catch glimpses of the small town of Paxton and looking off in the farthest Southernly direction, one would find Imperial, though too far to see. Paxton was our 1st true hometown in Nebraska, wasn't it Mark? And where we laid claim to the sandhills and Platte Rivers as a temporary playground. So, what drew you to Imperial?

Only you and Sue know the stories of Imperial and those special memories are, now, only for her telling. How we came to gather in Imperial to remember you, is a fascinating adventure in itself...but not one for the telling today. No, the main reason we were in Imperial was because Mom was in the nursing home there. It wasn't until family was gathering that I learned that your romance with Sue included Imperial.

In fact, before the Celebration (since you requested no funeral), Sue took you, wrapped like the gift you were in red wrap with Nebraska Football stickers, for one last journey around the old haunts, belonging to the two of you. Funny too, cuz if it had been a funeral...you'd of fulfilled any confrontation of being late to your own funeral! When you hadn't arrived after most had gathered, I had to call your wife and ask when you'd finally be arriving. A cause for a smile now since I wasn't smiling then. God works in mysterious ways! The circle was complete.

Look to the South, Mark...to Imperial where the Church of Christ opened thier doors and hearts for us to gather and celebrate your life! Look to the South, Mark...to Paxton, where we met in the home of Aunt Grace and Uncle Al! You would have been so moved by thier hospitality, feeding the troops and giving of themselves in such a loving way and on a moments notice! Oh, and Mark, they even climbed Windy Gap with about fifty of us and shared an experience that moved nearly all of us to tears!

Look, in all the directions from this chosen vantage point, Mark. See the memories in every vista and listen for our love and forgiveness on the wind.

MARK, LOOK EAST AND KNOW HOME

From each vantage point of Windy Gap, you can see what became. A boy of eight, trekked all over these sandhills, playing games and looking out at such awesome vistas. Here to the East, a boy of eight would not have seen the Gerald Gentleman Plant off in the distance, or ever dreamed of working there. It hadn't been built yet. He would have stood here and thought he could see to the end of the earth! Still, when this eight year old became a young man in his late 20's, he worked during GGS shutdowns. Didn't stay to be hired as a regular as this wasn't his destiny. No, his destiny was further East.

Further East,
but not easily seen,
paths to the lives of many.
East became home.
Others have the stories,
only they can tell.
Stories of Mark,
both dark and light.
Every path encounters shadows,
all must learn to pass,
and chose those paths,
of fewer shadows,
and more awesome vistas.

TO THE NORTH WAS YOUR PLAYGROUND, MARK

The sandhills, North of Paxton, served as our playground for several years. Those years, in some ways, were our healing years. Mom had whisked us out of Colorado and away from that seven year nightmare and we could breathe and our fears began to subside. We bunked for a short time with Mom's folks and then moved next door to a wee little home. Our three room house was small, cramped and we had some rip, roaring fights but oh, what fun! Poor, no T.V., not much for possessions but we had each other. And we had the sandhills!

We only had to go two blocks to the North...just past the Ronje's house, up into the hills we'd hike. Mark and Carl often hiked all over Windy Gap, further into the sandhills than most cared to go, or would just follow the canal for miles. They would often disappear when it was chore time or when they were in some kind of trouble. That's just what those sandhills were for! A haven for most of the town kids, who would scramble all over those hills, dodging rattlers and playing like we were wild horses or wild Indians or war...since the Vietnam war was on everyone's mind back then and President Kennedy had been assassinated not long after moving to Paxton.

We moved from that three roomed house (kitchen, bath, and big room we used for living room and bedroom) and lived for a few months across the street from the Luthern Church and only 1 block from the sandhills! With our first dog, Flip, and a few new Paxton friends, a trek up North was a weekly, sometimes, daily event. Those were some of our best times as kids...and so it makes sense that this is where Mark came to rest.

MARK LOOK WEST AND OVER THE HILL

West and over the hill, you can almost see where Grandpa & Grandma lived, and next to them, the little three room house that began our permanent stay in Nebraska. Temporary home to a newly single mother of four, three boys and a girl.

If you look further West, ya just might see our 1st home in Ogallala. Wow, that Mom of ours! Raising four kids and buying a home. It was a tough life though. We had our first permanent home but where Carl had the toughest breaks when we lived further West, in Colorado, you suffered some of your worst breaks in your life in Nebraska...starting, just West, over the hill.

Do you have the answers now, Mark, to all your whys? Why, you came West that weekend in April of 2008, was the only why, we all knew. A Funeral for our younger cousin, Cindy. Loosing her impacted so many and since you had missed some major funerals already, from illness, coming West was a mission. A mission with many layers to unfold. Layers that the rest of us are still unfolding. So, now, has it all been unfolded for you, Mark?

Ok, if you look even further West, you may see Ron's home. It was a real joy to my heart to have you and brother Carl in our home that weekend. In reflection, it was a very deep time for us to talk about mistakes we both made, regrets and amends. Isn't that how the death of a loved one makes us talk of things we fear we may never say before our own death wisks us away, as it had Cindy? How could we know it would be our last talk and so deep was what the time required.

Your health had become your biggest enemy, huh, Bro? And living on borrowed time was becoming visibly more difficult. Funny though, I can still hear your laughter and jokes amid the grunts of pain and complaints of that crappy tasting _ _ _ _ that was required to take a _ _ _ _ . I wish I had your gift to laugh in adversity as much as you did....as much as you tried. I'm a whiner,...a real whimp compared to what you had to endure for so many years. Do you hurt anymore, Mark? That was what you told me you prayed for most....I should be grateful that your prayer was answered. I just wish you didn't have to go little brother!

West, is to some Native American cultures, the direction for death. Interesting that your last trip was West. You were home...yet, not home any more. Things had changed, people have changed and a funeral for Cindy was both a time to say good-bye to her and pay our respect to her sisters and all who loved her....it also became a venue from which all who loved, you, Mark, were, not knowingly, seeing and touching you...hearing you laugh that incredible laugh... for the last time....and, not knowingly, saying 'good-bye'.