I haven’t been on here in awhile. I’ve been too busy living life to the max every day.
Yesterday was probably one of the most jubilant days in my life until around noon. I got up early on Sunday morning and headed off to our family land and fishing pond just southwest of Alex.
This was a big test for me. I went by myself in my truck with two fishing poles and my high end hiking poles. This was the first time since my cancer diagnosis that I felt comfortable enough with my physical condition to do this solo.
My primary goal was simple… head down to the pond and do one hiking trek around the two acre pond and then make it back to my truck on what is a tough terrain trek. This is rough land. Not many flat spots. Gray County isn’t for sissies.
And I have to say I did it easily with plenty left in my gas tank. The last twenty yards I was Rocky with my fists pumped upright towards the sky. Yo, Adrian.
It was a great moment for me. A moment I’ll never forget on my cancer journey.
I bonded with our three new burrows who have been added to the cattle mix to protect the cattle from coyotes. I then fly-fished for bluegill and perch for about an hour. I caught about thirty fish in an hour and decided to get back to the truck and head back home.
But before I started my truck…I looked at my cell phone and noticed I had a call not only from my wife, but one as well from my cousin/brother Mark.
Except the problem is the call from Mark was from his wife Carla notifying me Mark had suffered a brain aneurysm on Sunday morning and was on life support at Mercy Hospital in Oklahoma City.
It was then explained to me from my wife Mark would be taken off life support that evening as there was no hope.
Keep in mind…Mark was only sixty years of age and played competitive tennis and golf his entire adult life. There is an absurdity to this which has not escaped me. That being…I always figured Mark would out live me by at least twenty years.
Life is hard and sometimes it makes no sense whatsoever. This is one of those times.
Mark was my cousin. My friend. And in reality….one of my brothers. Mark was a person I truly admired and looked up to even though he was five years younger than me.
As a husband, I can think of no other man who held a candle to Mark. His devotion to Carla was absolute. His love and dedication to his two daughters, Avery and Em, was off the charts. He lived his life to a code which all of us as men should aspire.
He genuinely cared about other people. It didn’t matter if you were poor or rich. Black or white. Whatever. He had a kind heart and a sense of aspiration which is achingly missing currently in American culture. He’s the guy you would want in the foxhole next to you if you’d been wounded in battle.
If you had Mark as a friend…you had something special. Me? I had him as a friend, a cousin, and a brother. I’m one lucky dude to have been in Mark’s inner circle. I am.
I’m not angry at God, but rather the opposite. I feel grateful for all the great experiences I shared with Mark over the years. I won’t sugarcoat this. I hurt right now. I feel like my guts have yanked out. I feel like a truck ran over me yesterday.
But life is tough and I will respond to this grief in my own time. My own way. There is no statue of limitations for grief.
Mark was one of my many inspirations for me pulling myself back up after the 1212 PSA count which had me on an apparent death sentence of sorts. He challenged me. He pushed me. He knew I wouldn’t just curl up and die.
And I didn’t. Mark was a huge part of this with me. Fortunately, for me, I called Mark around six weeks ago and told him how much he meant to me. I told him I loved him like a brother.
I’m grateful I made that call.
Mike J