This was sent from a friend of Mark.

For those of you who don’t know what happened or were unable to attend the funeral:
 
What Happened:
 
   Mark moved into his new home on Monday 11/1. He had plumbing problems and dealt with those. On Tuesday he had the living room painted his favorite color (Purple).  Wednesday his sister, Lisa, and her children came over to continue with getting the house set up.  Mark didn’t answer the door and when Lisa and her children went in they found Mark dead. The family was told by the coroner that Mark had a blood clot that dislodged. It went straight to his heart and “it was like a light switch was  shut off”. Even if someone had been with him, they couldn’t have done anything to save him.  At least, Mark didn’t suffer.
 
The funeral:
 
  The Corner Stone Church is a small white church on a corner at the end of the downtown area of Spring Green. When my wife, Jane and I arrived, both sides of the street were lined with cars and several people were outside talking. We went in and up the stairs to the main floor of the church. Mark’s casket sat at the front of church with the minister’s small podium behind it. The casket was blue gray with a white satin interior and Mark’s body was inside. As I stood over him and said goodbye to my  friend, I couldn’t help but think that his body looked deflated and smaller than I remember him, like the great spirit that had filled it had left. His sisters, Lisa and Nikki, soon greeted myself and my wife. There were pleasantries exchanged and memories expressed, not without some tears.  Mark’s mother, Susan, soon appeared and I gave her a hug. And then more people arrived and the family move to greet them.
  We walked about the church too sad and stunned to really talk to anyone. There were 3 cork boards set up each with photos of Mark. The first held pictures of him as a smiling happy child. The second was his adolescence and the third memorable moments from his adulthood. After viewing these we left for a while to regain composure, driving around Spring Green. The beauty of the day was all but lost to the sadness within us.
  When we returned, my wife and I went in and proceeded to speak with many of Mark’s family. I met is brother Jeri , his best friend and his best friend’s wife. Also Lisa’s husband and Mark’s nephew’s friend who would have moved in with Mark along with the nephew. All expressed that Mark had been a wonderful brother, uncle, and friend. It was really good meeting them and hearing the love they had for Mark in the words they spoke.
  Then the casket was closed.
  The service began with the Minister confessing that he had only met Mark a few times but he had quickly picked up on the gentle spirited prankster that Mark was. He spoke of how Mark had doubted God’s existence but had come to be at peace with him. He spoke of prayer,  its mystery and  power to heal. He told of how one Thursday Mark’s mother, Susan, had had the overwhelming urge to pray for Mark and did so without knowing why. Later she asked Mark if anything had happened that day and he told her of a day of despair where he had thought of ending it all. He had decided not to do anything at just about the time she was praying. The minister related how Mark really like the color purple (in ancient times purple was for royalty) and had painted his living room purple.  How, the day the living room was painted, Mark had given his nephew and all too prophetic little  silver coin with the phrase “Little did I know Yesterday that all would come due today” .  His nephew held up the coin as the story was told.  There was a pause to have the song “Coming Home”  played. It was about a son meeting his father in heaven and being thrilled to show him what a man he had become.  
   After “Coming Home” , the minister asked those of us that might want to tell a story about Mark to do so.  I started with a story of generosity , caring, joy and acceptance: Mark took Jane, myself and his girl friend to what had been  a very productive metal detecting site for him. Fearing he had cleaned it out, he had bought coins to hide in the area which he did without the women knowing it. Well, my wife found a little patch that was very productive and we all had a turn at it with Mark going last. I’ll always remember the whoops of triumph as Mark jumped around waving a 1753 Hamburg Thaler.  It was the oldest coin any of us had ever found. Mark was surprised when it was only worth $1 but after a moment of disappointment, he return to expressing that it was still his oldest coin and he was happy with that.  And then he had to find the coins he had hidden before we left.
  Mark’s aunt told of her memories of him and his cousins, all smiling dressed in sailor suits. She said he was the leader and most of the time that was ok but they did get into trouble…you know just minor stuff..but she would always remember the smiling little boy in the sailor suit. A cousin told of a falling out that had occurred and how Mark, ever the peacemaker, had come to her and after a little talking the problem become insignificant and was forgotten. Another cousin spoke of all the fun they had had together. Other stories of adolescent pranks and sly humor were told. My favorite was how Mark had caught a huge fish and, thinking it dead, had started to cross a
shallow channel back to camp. Half way across it woke up, slapped Mark with its tail a few times, and becoming unmanageable fell into the water and escaped. Gales of laughter from the shore, cursing in the stream, all in all a good tale and a wonderful memory.  The stories came to an end.
  The minister ended the eulogy with a caution that no one knows when they will meet the Lord. Why Mark passed when he did when all was finally going well was not ours to know. It was between Mark and his maker.  We all should make our peace with God as Mark had and perhaps that should be our comfort and our charge. Another song was played. The Lord’s prayer was said.
  Throughout the whole service, the church had been filled with the soft almost inaudible sounds of grief, burly men with tears in their eyes, women weeping softly and many sighs. As they wheel his casket out, the wails of Mark’s mother and the sight the sisters and bother trying to console the inconsolable broke the already broken hearts of us all. No parent should have to bury a child. The service was over.
  Many went outside and many when to the small luncheon area in the church basement. My wife retired to our car overwhelmed. I spoke with a few story tellers , Lisa and finally Nikki and her husband Tony. As I left Nikki to go back to Madison, I expressed this sentiment and I express it to you now:  When you leave a loved one give them a hug and tell them you love them. It could be the last time.
 
 
I love you Mark and I’ll miss you the rest of my life.