“In 2005, she suffered the loss of her sixteen-year-old brother, Mark, in a car accident.” He was her best friend, the one person she could rely on, and his death left her world divided into two portions: before and after his death.
December first, two thousand five, she was ill and lying on the floor when her baby brother, Mark, asked her to lie down on the couch with him. He snuggled up with her as they watched a movie, keeping her away from her brothers so they wouldn’t catch her illness, which in turn would make her sick too. That night, he asked her to stay in his room; he would take hers instead. December second, the morning of the second, he came in to get ready for school, told her he loved her, and said goodbye to her and her brothers as he kissed them off to school. Later that day, as she buckled the kids into their car seats, Mark drove up to their driveway. She didn’t know it, but that would be the last time she would see him alive.
Mark finished his office work by ten that night. A friend was waiting for him so that he could spend the weekend away. His friend suggested that they change their plan and leave immediately. It was one in the morning when there was a knock on the door. A police officer asked to enter the house. She thought that it might be her other brother who got into trouble. The police officer told her that Mark died in a car accident. She fainted hearing those words.
However, the house was filled with her extended family, but she had never felt more alone in her life. The early dawn finally told her that she could no longer stand the apologies and the cries of her mother, so she got into the truck owned by Mark and drove until she reached the site of the crash. Guilt flooded through her, as she now wished that she had hugged her mother more and bid her a warmer farewell, so it was no surprise that she discovered that Mark had been thrown out of the truck due to a broken seatbelt, which killed him instantly.
Her oldest son did not understand everything, only that his uncle would never come back. She did not know how to deal with her feelings, and drinking became her coping mechanism. The hurt intensified until she wrote her mother a letter apologizing for her children and asking her to take care of them should anything happen to her. Mark was only sixteen. His friend lived long enough to say his goodbyes. Mark’s family was not given that chance.
The blur of December, January, and February was a haze. But then she posted a comment on a stranger’s photo one night. He was named Chris. They conversed for several months, slowly wrenching her back from the precipice. In May, they had a final dinner meeting, talking until the restaurant closed. He was reluctant to pursue a romantic relationship with a woman who had two young children, but he couldn’t leave. One afternoon, she visited him, her youngest son asleep in the car. She took a short ride and came back to find Chris holding the baby and smiling. She realized in that instant that she had fallen in love with him. One night, he kissed her and told her she was the one he had waited for.
She stopped drinking. By August, he had asked her to move in. He built a home for them and vowed to care for her family. They married, and during the thirteen years of their relationship, he adopted her two sons, whom he raised into young men. They had a daughter to complete their family. She believes that Mark introduced Chris to her when she needed saving most. Ten years after marriage, they renewed their vows because they knew that Mark was always with them spiritually.
