Today marks two years since our dad (Sean's dad) went to his forever home. Really not a day goes by that I don't think about him, he was in my life for 10.5 years. I think about him when I look at Sean or Wyatt. Just knowing how much Sean hurts everyday not having him here. And knowing that our sweet boy will never know his Grandpa Mark, for a long while, anyway. I know Wyatt will know about him and Sean will teach him all of the things that Mark taught him (well, hopefully not all the things, ha!).
It was a Friday when we lost Mark. It was truly one of the hardest things I've ever had to witness. He'd been moved home and was receiving hospice care at Sean's grandmothers home. We got the call on Thursday that we needed to come, and so Friday morning we headed to Fayetteville. I, honestly, don't remember the car drive up. The first thing I remember was getting to his grandmother's house and seeing Aunt Lisa, who had come down with her husband from Pennsylvania. Really not knowing what to expect, I let Sean go in first and see his dad. He wasn't Mark. He was jaundice, frail, non-verbal, and his breathing was so deep it sounded like a freight train. I sat with Sean, we sat together. There were no words of comfort or words at all. We cried and prayed. And, then, with-in a few hours, he was gone. He had fought so hard for five years and the cancer got the best of him.
We all remember him in our own ways. I tend to remember him sitting at the kitchen table, sipping hot tea, eating toast, and talking about everything under the sun (and I mean, everything). It's still hard to walk into their home and not see him sitting there.
Sean is spending the day remembering him the way he knows best, through cars. He's working on his dad's car today, with hopes to get it running. It was what they did together, it's what they talked about, it was their passion together. I look forward to Sean passing that passion and love on to our children, as much as I hate to admit that.
We love you dad, and we'll see you again someday.
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