 Mila, Ali and Mark celebrating NYE 2024. A long December and there’s reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving Now the days go by so fast -Counting Crows, A Long December On January 1st, 2024 about 15 minutes past midnight, Mark came in to our room, threw up and told us he had a headache. At the time we thought it was too much junk food at the Texans game earlier in the day or nerves about returning to school. Never, in a million lifetimes, would we have suspected in that moment that this was the first sign of something much, much more serious than an upset tummy.  Jameson, Mark and Bryan at the Texans game on 12/31/23. For many, including us, the new year represents more than just a new day on the calendar. As 2023 drew to a close and we took down Christmas decorations, we were excited for all that was to come in the new year. We had big goals, dreams and aspirations that we were excited to see through to fruition. We had everything to be thankful for and we were feeling very good about the direction of our lives. Then the clock struck midnight and within 15 minutes our world, as we knew it, was flipped completely upside down. Since Mark passed on November 8th, I go back and look at pictures on my phone from exactly one year ago to the day of whatever day it is. I don’t know why I do this. Perhaps I am a glutton for punishment. Maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe I just miss Mark. I look at these pictures and think about how at that time, last year everything was different. I see the light in Mark’s eyes in these pictures and it breaks my heart to know that these were the last few weeks or days of his childhood as he had known it. Up until January 11th these pictures were from a normal time, a different time when we did not know anything was wrong. On January 11, 2024, Ali took Mark to the pediatrician for a check-up because of the headaches. The doctor ordered a precautionary MRI to “rule anything out”. When Ali called me that afternoon and told me that they had ordered an MRI, I had a sick feeling in my stomach that I cannot explain. I broke down at work right then and there. The MRI was scheduled for January 14, 2024. Yesterday, January 14th, was the one year anniversary of that fateful MRI and our first trip to Texas Children’s knowing only that there was “a mass in Mark’s brain.” I will never forget the crippling fear and utter shock of that afternoon. I look at the pictures from that day and I see Mark with a smile as he laid in the triage room at Texas Children’s. I see him putting on a brave face as they gave him his first of many IV’s. Over the subsequent days there are several MRI’s, a surgery, a meeting with Crosby, who Mark would get to know very well. Given all that has happened in the last 12 months it seems so long ago and like just yesterday at the same time.  Waiting in the ER triage room at Texas Children's Hospital for the first time (1/14/24) This is how it will be for the next year when we look at pictures. On February 4th I will see pictures of a whole lot of friends and family coming together to pray over Mark, our family and his care team. On March 8th I will see pictures of us in Galveston for spring break when Mark was starting to become too weak and tired from the radiation to walk. On April 5th I will see pictures of Mark banging the gong to celebrate the end of radiation and the ensuing party at our house with all of his 4th grade friends. There will be smiles and snow cones and for a few hours that afternoon, some normalcy. On April 16th I will see pictures of a community coming together to eat burgers and raise money to help support our family in a way that only B/CS can. There will be pictures from this same day of Mark and I on an Air Force plane for the flyover before the baseball game. There will be pictures of birthdays and Easter and a trips to Colorado and Omaha. There will be smiles and tears and everything in between. We will see him walking and in a wheelchair and in some pictures his eyes will be open and in some they will be closed. There will be several stays at the hospital. We will see pictures of his baptism and of Halloween. This will go on every day up until November 8th. After that day there will be no more pictures of Mark from a year ago. This will be the hardest day. It goes without saying that last year, 2024, was the hardest year of our lives. I cannot imagine another being more difficult. We took the full-force of the punch that was 2024 right on the chin, and we are still standing. We did not go down and we will not go down. We were tested mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually and we are stronger for it. Now, as we celebrate the New Year we reflect on how much we have grown and changed in just a year.  Bryan, Jameson and Ali celebrating NYE 2025 in Austin, TX. As we sat with Mark during those last few hours, we told him that we would be okay. We are going to keep that promise to him. Perhaps instead of looking back, we ought to take everything that was learned in 2024, remember it and move forward. Not move on, but move forward. We are excited to see what this year has in store. Please keep up with our updates as we will have some very exciting news in the coming weeks. There are certain things that are already in the works for us that will enable us to carry on Mark’s legacy and we are excited to share those with you as we get a little further down the road. We thank you for continuing to keep our family in your prayers.  The final sunset of 2024 in Austin, TX.
12 Comments
|
RSS Feed