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  • Writer's pictureMegan

Thoughts of Mark Always Fill My Head

Sometimes its the tiniest things that make me think of Mark. Actually that isn't totally accurate, because to be honest I rarely stop thinking about Mark. There are not places I go without thinking of him, there are not tasks I complete without Mark crossing my mind, even my profession is so closely tied to Mark. It really is incredible how much you can intertwine your lives in just 7 years of knowing one another.

Mark was a painter, he sure could paint fast. He was always in high demand for the company he worked for and the job sent him all across the Twin Cities. I literally cannot drive many places within 30 miles of my house without passing a property he painted at. I can sit at my desk and think about conversations I had while on the phone with him, I can imagine the day this past summer when he and the little kids came to pick me up from work, how he sat back in the chair nice and relaxed, I can hear him call Hezekiah "come here son, let your Mom work."

As I drive my car, I can remember his face when I came home with it, how surprised he was that I had bought such a nice van, knowing I am super stingy. Changing lanes to the left so I don't exit on Hwy 10 east makes me think of how many times I made that same lane change but with him sitting in the seat next to me. Buckling the kids into their car seats makes me think of the early mornings on the driveway when Mark was the only person who could convince Hezekiah to get into the car and head to daycare.

Of course our home is a constant reminder of Mark. There are so many memories tied to our house, good and bad. Washing the dishes reminds me of hearing the door open behind me and seeing a paint covered Mark walk through the door. Cooking meals that I cooked for him only make me wish he was still here to eat them. I can't even take a shower without thinking about how often he used to scare me in the mornings when I thought he had already left for work. His chair sits empty in the living room, and his spot at the table is empty. But our house is also filled with pictures of him, his watch still sits on his dresser, and a few coats still hang inside the door. There is no escaping the thought of my husband.

To be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way. I read about people who can't speak of their loved ones, the thoughts of them are too hard to bear. For me what would be too hard to bear is a life void of Mark. He existed on earth, and now he exists in heaven. I love thinking about him, I love when I am privileged enough to dream of him. It almost makes me cringe when people avoid him in conversation, I would so much rather light up a room with a story about him, or hear stories that I have never heard from those people he had a part in shaping. I miss Mark all of the time, every moment of every day, but when I am blessed with good thoughts about him its almost like I get to miss him a little less because he is a little closer to home.

"Love never ends..." 1 Corinthians 13:8

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