Twelve years ago today, I said goodbye to my beloved Mark, my husband, my best friend, the father of my children.
Twelve years ago today, I endured the most excruciating moments of my life as I laid my head on my husband’s chest, hugging him tight and squeezing his hand for the very last time. I spoke to him softly, unsure of whether he could hear me, yet hoping and praying in that moment that words could travel exactly the way that love does, directly from one heart to another. I promised I’d take the best care of our children, our three precious little birds. I vowed I’d raise them to know exactly who their dad was, how remarkably special he was and how much he loved and adored them. I promised him I’d continue to honor and cherish him for all the days of my life, just as I had vowed on our wedding day.
The moments that followed are forever cemented in my memory. I watched as Mark was wheeled away down the dim hospital hallway toward surgery, where his final moments on earth would become the beginning of a remarkable gift—the gift of life to others. I was barely able to stand on my own, weakened by a grief so overwhelming that I had no idea how I’d find the strength to turn and walk down the hallway in the other direction, where I’d begin the unimaginable journey of learning how to live without him. The tears spilled from my eyes as I watched the space between us grow further and further until Mark and the medical team, now mere shadows in a tunnel of somber flickering light, turned the corner toward life and death.
…….
This month, I’ve been reflecting a lot about my life with Mark, as I do every year in October. With the Brewers’ success this season, I’ve found myself imagining just how excited Mark would be. He was the ultimate fan, never missing an opportunity to tailgate on Opening Day…that is until his career as a high school principal took precedence over his fanaticism… or to proudly sport his favorite jersey or lucky Brewers socks.
Mark’s love for the Brewers ran so deep that he announced early in our relationship that his first son would most definitely be named Cooper, after one of his favorite Brewers, Cecil Cooper. He then shared that one of his favorite childhood memories was going to a Brewers game with his dad. When #15 came up to bat, the crowd erupted in a low, rumbling cheer. To young Mark, it sounded an awful lot like a chorus of boos. Confused, he turned to his dad and asked, “Dad, why are they booing him?” His dad quickly corrected him: “No, son, they’re cheering his name. Cooooooop!” Mark’s eyes widened, and he swears that was the moment he decided his future son would be named Cooper.
I have so many fond memories of tailgates and Brewers games with Mark throughout our life together. In the early days, we’d meet friends for beers, bags and bbqing in the parking lot and as our family grew, the kids came along for the fun too. Cooper attended at least six games at Miller Park in his first five months of life, including both Mark’s first Father’s Day, at one month of age and a playoff game against the Phillies in October at five months old, sandwiching several other tailgate experiences as a baby in between. We may not have kept up quite that pace, but even as each of the girls came along we still attended several games per year, including a last minute game on a school night in the month before he died. Cece was only two years old and was getting a little fussy since it was past her bedtime, so Mark took her up in the concourse to walk around, giving Cooper, Lucia and I little more time to enjoy the game. Looking back, that night in particular always reminds me of Mark’s patience amidst chaos.
With the Brewers incredible season this year, I can’t help but think about how much Mark would be loving every minute of it. I can picture his excitement and enthusiasm and that unmistakable passion for the team he loved so much. I wish more than anything that he were here to cheer them on with us, but there is something incredibly special about the fact that this milestone anniversary coincides with such a historic moment for his beloved Brewers: Game One of the World Series, their first appearance in 44 years.
Thanks to David’s decision to share a 20-pack of tickets with a few friends this season, he was able to score tickets at a relatively reasonable price, giving him the incredible opportunity to take the boys to be part of this historic night. And so, tonight, I am grateful that Cooper will be there with David and his brothers, in the middle of that familiar rumble, as the rookie shortstop steps up to the plate and the crowd roars “Coooooooooop!”
I sure wish Mark could be there too. I wish he could be in the stands with Cooper, wearing his favorite jersey, caught up in the excitement of a moment he would have dreamed of. But I hope and pray that Cooper will feel his dad’s presence beside him, cheering right along with him because I am certain that a little piece of Mark will be there tonight, woven into a moment that would have meant the world to him. And somehow, that feels like exactly where Mark should be. 💙 💛
………….
Twelve years. That number feels impossible to comprehend, especially because twelve years is also the amount of time we had on this earth together. How can the years since losing him equal the years I was lucky enough to have him by my side? It feels like a lifetime ago and just yesterday, all at once.
For twelve years, I have learned what it means to live without the person who was at the center of my world. But I have also come to understand that love doesn’t end when life does. It lives on in our children, in the stories we tell, in the traditions we carry forward, and in the moments when we find ourselves wishing, more than anything, that they were here to share them with us.
Twelve years ago today, I watched Mark disappear around a corner in a hospital hallway, while facing a future I could not yet imagine without him. Tonight, as Cooper listens to a stadium full of fans call out his name, I hope he feels his dad close by. Twelve years later, I am still learning to live without Mark, but I am also reminded that in the most unexpected and beautiful ways, I have never stopped carrying him with me. 💗
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