Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I guess I deserved it.

This past Sunday morning just before the Dallas Cowboys football game against the Seattle Seahawks, I did my usual pre-game routine. 

  • I check my Fantasy Football line-up.
  • I check my DVR.  Make sure the pre-scheduled recording is still correct.
  • Get/Make a snack or meal for the game.
  • Get on Twitter / Facebook to see what the mood is among Cowboy fans and haters.

During this last step is when I saw this Tweet about the Sunday Dallas Stars game:



Being an avid Cowboys fan, I am pretty defensive of the team.  Add to that fact that I can be an idiot myself and can be pretty annoying.  Plus heightened my testiness and surliness influenced by the lackluster perforamance of the 'Boys this season.  Putting all of that together, I shot this Tweet back.



Pretty idiotic I know.  I love the Stars myself.  The reason I even found the Tweet was because I am a follower of Ralph Strangis.  Strangis is the play-by-play broadcaster of the Stars on radio and tv.  Along with Razor Reaugh they are my favorite game announcing duo in the Metroplex. 

But, I Tweeted that anyway.

Perhaps I should have not been surprised when I saw this email notifying me of a reply from my Tweet.



His reply was.

 
@trirol1 don't take a shot at the Stars or I'll take a shot at your dead son. #burytheweak


Shocked?  Not really. 
More like STUNNED. 
 
I just sat there in my office, frozen.  Reading and re-reading that email over and over.  I wanted to talk my wife and share this.  I even called her, luckily her phone went to voicemail. 
 
Luckily I say, because she would have exploded.
 
Sure, I was trying to get this guy off-sides with my Tweet, but his best shot back was a threat to "take a shot at your dead son?"  And that super offensive hash tag of  #burytheweak?
 
Not a shot towards Garret Top, Romo or any of the Cowboys.  No snide remark about the Death Star or Jerry Jones.
 
Nope not any of them.  He went way below the belt.

I should have ignored it.  But I could not. 

I thought of every possible scenario to get back at this guy.  It really bugged me.  I was wishing physical harm on him.  I was trying to channel my inner Voodoo witch and cast a bad spell on him.  Hives.  If I was lucky even some kind of venereal disease.  At the very least I hoped to ruin his day.

I tried to private message him through Twitter.  I could not.  You have to be a follower of a Tweeter before you can PM them.  Asking to follow this man is not an option.  So I did what I can by shooting another Tweet back on Tuesday.



What I wanted to say, "was trying to get you off-sides, but not that FAR - best tweet ever - have a nice life."  In my haste and anger i left out the word FAR.

Morbidly I checked his profile page after posting this, and I notice that the #burytheweak Tweet is gone from his Tweets.  Which leads me to think he either a) deleted the Tweet because he sickened and embarassed himself (I hope) or b) he wanted no witnesses for his crassness aside from Ralph Strangis and Billy Jaffe.

So why make a fuss about this now and share it here? 

I guess I just wanted to share this experience to friends and family. 

I wanted to show that people like Mr. Chapman exist. 

I wanted to show how people will go after what you hold dear just to one up you. 

Plus I want all to be warned. 

This blog's URL is on my Twitter profile.  That is how the sweet Mr. Chapman found out about my "dead son" as he put it in his brilliantly chosen words.  Be warned.  Do not expose or share anything that you do not want to be used against you.


I hope the worst loss he experiences in life is never close to what we have experienced. 

I hope the worst thing you suffer from is an annoying Tweet directed at your favorite hockey team.

I do hope the next time you get flamed by someone, you do not react in the same way you reacted to my Tweet. 

Have a nice life Mr. Chapman.









Monday, October 3, 2011

First Visit by Myself


I cannot recall the exact number of times we have visited Marcus' graveside.  The number isn't very high.  Perhaps more than ten, but definitely less than 20.  When we do visit it is usually with Marcus' friends from out of town or when it marks an occasion or another anniversary of the accident.

One thing I am certain is that I have never visited by myself.  Until this day. 

I had to miss work this day because my scooter had a mechanical problem.  What I thought was going to be major dollar wise turned out to be a minor thing.  A loose oil filter and then a loose gasket. 

The scooter shop is on Greenville Avenue, the same street the cemetery is located.  I had only passed the cemetery twice that I had not stopped and visited his grave.  One of those times was not planned, we just ended coming up Greenville for no reason.  It was late almost midnight and we couldn't have gotten in the cemetery, so we decided to just drive-on.  

The second time, I was also coming from Vespa Dallas.  I was avoiding riding on the freeway and I unconsciously rode up Greenville.  I was almost at a panic when I got to the intersection of I-635 and Greenville.  I knew I was not skilled enough to ride on the freeways, so I kept on up Greenville. 

By the time I can see the cemetery my emotions had gotten the best of me.  I was in tears and I was talking aloud apologizing to Marcus that I cannot stop by because I do not think I can do it without his Mom or Alex.  Which is odd because I always contend that I do not FEEL he is at his grave.  I feel his presence the most at home or in his room at his Mydia's house.  But still the overwhelming guilt of not stopping, got the best of me.

This day I was prepared to go up Greenville.  As I left the shop, I was not sure if I was going to stop or not.  I figured I will know by the time I get there.  But as soon as I got lost in the din of road noise and the whine of the scooter in my helmet, I can almost here Marcus taunting me.  It was just like when I am afraid to look down from a tall building or when he found out I will never try bungee jumping.  The teasing is in incessant at these times.  But at that moment I can hear him saying, "You'll be fine.  C'mon I will do it with you!"  After that I knew I was going to stop by.



It was one of the most unusual hours I have ever felt in my life.  Once there, I did what always do at first.  I inspected the immediate area around his marker.  Due to the drought, there was very little green grass left.  I had a quick fright because I could not locate the marker at first glance.  Marcus' marker is almost the same color as the grass.  Plus there was a mound of dug up dirt where I originally thought his marker was.  I thought somehow his marker was damaged and the maintenance crew has taken it in for repair.  As soon as I located his grave (still not used to admitting that my son has a fucking grave!), a certain peace came over me.  And I literally felt Marcus with me!  Not the physical Marcus in the grave, but him. 

I spoke out loud talking to him.  No, he did not answer of course.  But it felt comfortable. 

I looked around and I saw a woman eating a plate of food at a nearby grave.  She seemed to have been talking out loud herself.  She, like me, was sitting on the ground and visiting someone she obviously cared about.  Afterwards she chalked the grave marker on what seems like butcher paper. 

I looked across the other side and I saw a mid-aged woman stepping out of a late 80's or early 90's White Firebird.  She too had some sort of "goodie bag" with her. 

Seeing these two women put me more at ease.  Seeing them also saddened me more.  They seem to be old pros at this visiting someone at the cemetery.  Just another reminder of how forever the loss of our son is. 

While there I trade to pray the rosary, but I could not remember how to properly do so.  So I tried to read out my Novena book and I cannot find an appropriate Novena prayer.  Again at this point I imagined Marcus giving me crap about the two failures. 

So I just laid on the ground next to the marker and prayed.  I prayed what was in my heart.  I spoke to my son and as if we both just laid there.  The picture on the top of this entry is what is directly above the grave.  I can almost hear him say, "Didn't Mom say we were suppose to get chimes for this tree?  Not for me of course, but for the other visitors that come see my grave?"  

This may seem insane to any reader.  And it is true I may be insane.

But I know on one of the next visits I will have a ladder, a long stick with a hook on the tip and some sort of chime.  So when you visit his grave you will hear more than just road noise. 

If you do visit, please let us know.






Monday, September 12, 2011

Anything can be a bitter reminder...


What would you pay for a burger like this?  I would give up so much to just be able to have this meal at the Sonic in Hillsboro, KS in the winter of 2008.

That was the last time  we visited Hillsboro with our son still alive.  It was for his Football Awards Night.

He was awarded Special Teams Player of the Year Award and this watch for being on the squad four years.

Here is a picture of Marcus along with Grant (middle) who was his host when Marcus visited Tabor in April 2004 as a pre-frosh.  Grant was an Assistant Coach and the Offensive line coach for the BlueJays in 2008.  The gentleman in the gold tie was then head coach Mike Gottsch.

Marcus and Mario his last roommate at Tabor.

Same guys just more skin.

I guess it is just normal that everything and anything can remind you of your lost loved ones. Scents, lyrics of songs, dialogue in a movie or the smallest meaningless thing can you send you bawling. This happened to me and my wife tonight.  She asked simply, "Why are you taking a picture of your food?"  Then opens the floodgates of emotions.

This happens to us a lot.  Most of the times on our own, but sometimes when we are together.  I know my wife has these episodes on her own and conceals them from all of us.  It is not because she is ashamed.  It is because she does not want to make me or our youngest Alex feel sad any more than we already are.

We love you and we miss you, Son.







Friday, August 5, 2011

Missing

There are days when I cannot get comfortable in my own skin. 

You know that feeling? 

Am I missing something? 

Did I lose my wallet? 

Where the fuck are my keys!? 

Did I leave the garage door open? 

Did I miss a conference call? 

Did I forget to reply to a very important email?

Then I just try to slow down and breathe...
That is how it feels most days...

Then the sad realization sets in.  I am not missing any of those trivial things.  Its the fact that, we no longer have our son, our big brother, our grandson, our nephew, and our friend. 

Our Marcus!

Monday, July 25, 2011

Vegas

Last month Trish and I went to Las Vegas to attend my 25 year high school reunion from my schools in the Philippines. A joint HFA-CS 25 Year Reunion was held at a private residence and the Grand Reunion was at the Aria. 

Trish and I stayed at the MGM Signature condo that the company I work for owns.  Managers at CentiMark are allowed the use of the condo yearly.

We were so impressed with the condo that we took loads of pictures.  Subsequently the pictures made it on my Facebook page.


A pic of us awaiting for the Fountain Show at The Belaggio.



I also shared this photo and a Facebook friend Barbara posted the following comment.  "I have a friend there at a np (nurse practitioner) conference. I think I will heading there in October!"


I read that statement and my only thought was, "Sweet!  Honeymoon maybe?"  I didn't really pay much attention to the "friend in Vegas part."  But my brain definitely filed it for later use.  How soon or if ever was unknown, but it was tucked in there.  Little did I know that this data will be used on our red-eye flight home.

It is strange how coincidences happen.  One coincidence is that the reunion fell on the same week the Nurse Practitioners Convention.  Secondly, our choice of flying Spirit Airlines.  Oh by the way this was the first week of Spirit's flights out of DFW.  I may have procrastinated a little bit in buying our tickets.  If I had not we most likely would have been flying American Airlines or Delta, our choice of airlines.  Spirit also enticed Barbara's friend to drive down to DFW from Oklahoma rather than to drive up to OKC.  Which guaranteed her a return flight to DFW.  And last factor was somehow I got to board the plane with the first group to board.  Which almost guaranteed that I can eavesdrop on fellow passenger's conversations. 

Sure enough, as I was sitting I hear a woman in the row in front of me say, "I am from Oklahoma and I was in town for the NP convention."  Hearing that I mentioned that I have a friend from Oklahoma, who had a friend in Vegas for the same convention.  Somehow I felt emboldened to ask the woman if she knew a Barbara C.  To my delight she said yes!  That one of her best friends was indeed Barbara C.  By this time I am forcefully smiling because I do not want to freak out Tasha P.  by bawling in front of her.  So I just said, "Barbara is my hero and I cannot wait to introduce you to my wife."  I sat back in my seat and tried to calm myself.  At which this time Tasha looked back and said, "I think I know how you know Barbara.  Son?"  I just nodded with tears running down my face.  Tasha then warmly said, "I am so sorry, she called me that very same night of the accident.  She wanted my advice if she should reach out to you guys and contact you."  She kept on saying I am so sorry for your loss.  Again I just sat back saying, "I cannot wait to introduce you to my wife."  Fifteen minutes or so later Patricia has finally boarded and I told her about Tasha.  My wife is definitely the more social person in our marriage.  She handles meeting people way better than I do.  But this occurrence she was almost as clumsy as I was.  She handled the meeting very well and did not have a lot of opportunity to talk because the plane was full by now and getting ready to take-off.


That flight took-off at 2:00AM CST.  Time was not an issue for me - I had to tell my hero, Barbara, that "Tasha is sitting in front of us on the plane."  So I texted her that right then and there.  When we landed in Dallas, I had two texts from Barbara.  One was just plainly "HUH?" and the other was, "Lol how funny!  Really is a small world!  Just dawned on me who this was and who you meant.  She is my buddy.  I miss her."  Tasha and Trish did get the opportunity to speak while waiting for our luggage. My wife exchanged numbers with Tasha and we are all now FB friends.


I do not know what all this means, but what I do feel is that somehow we have to meet Barbara face-to-face.  I know it will take a lot of strength from us.  But I do know we have to meet Barbara.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Mavs Finally Win the Big One!

Hey McCoy,

The Dallas Mavericks won the NBA Championship this past Sunday against the Miami Heat.  They won the series 4 - 2.  It was one of those things I have always thought I would be lucky if I saw an NBA championship in Dallas during my lifetime.  Well I was wrong.  It was during you lifetime.  As soon as the buzzer sounded I had to go in to your lil' bros' room and woke him up.  I had to wake him because he just came back from A-Kon and had very little sleep the past three nights.  To his credit he played it off like it was important to him too.  He high-fived and knucked me.  He knew I was happy they won and he joined me in the moment.  I was glad I did not turn on the lights because he would have seen tears rolling down my face.  I cherished that moment with your bro.  It is those moments of supposed happiness that makes me miss you the most.  I know if you were still here with us, you, me and Alex would be celebrating that win together.  Notice how when you wear home to watch a game, Superbowl or the NCAA Football your brother is suddenly interested?  I do not think it's really the game, but it's the bonding moments we always shared.  We hoot and holler at the great plays.  We hiss and cuss at the dumb ones.  Since you've been gone I haven't shared that moment with Alex.  Your Mom was plenty nice by accompanying me during the Rangers run last October.  I miss you kid.  I miss our times.  One of your Facebook friends posted one of your videos and captioned it by saying "You would have been so proud of the Mavs winning!"  She is right!  You loved your Mavs.  You admired Dirk for his weirdness.  The Championship would have been so much sweeter with you here.  I will never get used to you being gone Bud.  Never.

Love,

Dad


Friday, June 3, 2011

FOREVER 23

More facts that drive me absolutely insane daily.


  • Another season of graduations has passed.  Two years ago your lil bro had to walk accross the stage for you.


  • Your first serious girlfriend of any importance to you got married last month.  You will be a FOREVER BACHELOR.


  • One of your closest friends, the one that you were his best man at his wedding, just signed the divorce papers to disolve the marriage that you opposed vehemently.  You are not here to help him through the mess and cockily say, "I told you so!"




  • Your cousin Tristan started playing Little League Baseball this year.  His team has not won yet.  He is crushed everytime they lose.  He lifts his front leg to bat, just like you did.  He played short and now first.  Just like you did.  He wants to pitch.  Just like you did.  Your Uncle Josh works very hard with him.  But he can still use some extra hitting tips.  I guess the extra tips will have to come from me, reluctantly, instead of you.  I love going to his games, but it reminds me of your games so much.  I know that is the main reason why your Mom avoids these games like the plague.



  • Your cousin Audrey started swim class this year.  You being the fish that you were, could really help her out.  She is getting so big and so smart.  I wonder if she still remembers you?






  • Your wali will be a Senior in High School next year.  I cannot believe it either.  He started dating and has officially named somebody his girlfriend.  He is such a young gentleman.  You would be so proud of him.






  • Your Mydia is still as tough as could be.  She misses you dearly.  When I call her I try not to speak of you.  I fail almost all of the time.  So I do better not calling.



  • Your Mother's heart is still broken.  She tries to save every person and every animal she comes in contact with.  She tries to make everyone around her as happy as she can.  I know not one person in this world you left misses you more than she does.  I know no one hurts more than she does.  She loves you and she longs for you each moment of her life.





You should be here kid.  You should be here experiencing the same successes and failures your friends are experiencing.  The heartbreaks, the new loves, the new jobs, even the losing of jobs.  You should be moving from one apartment to another.  Or perhaps even moving back home with us.  You should be here arguing with your Mom until you both are blue in the face.  You should be here giving Alex the "talk" I gave you about sex.  You should be here making me in insane with concern for your future.  You should be here for everything! 
But you are not here.  No new experiences, no good, no bad.
As everyone that knew you matures (hopefully) and ages, you will be FOREVER 23.

I miss you son and I love you.






Monday, May 16, 2011

Heaven in a bag of Skittles candy.

As soon as Marcus passed - the first question in my mind was, "Was he going to heaven?"  Being raised Catholic there are certain beliefs that I have that I know I did not lead my son to fulfilling. 

Marcus was baptized Catholic when he was eight years old.  The same day as his lil' bro' Alex.  This was one of the proudest days of my life.  This day was a confirmation of Patricia's trust in me to lead her sons spiritually.  (Which I failed tremendously) My wife was born Baptist.  My wife is a Baptist.  My wife will die as a Baptist.  This fact and many reasons more are why I love and respect her so much.  But even with her being a proud Southern Baptist, she willingly without second thought agreed to have the boys baptized as Catholics.

Due to my poor spiritual leadership and an awful parting of way with a Catholic School, Marcus' Catholic faith never developed fully.  In fact there was a point, in Marcus' latter teen years, that he questioned the existence of God.  I addressed his questions to the best of my abilities.  I remember telling him, "God exists in us.  The reason your Mydia loves you, the reason why your Mother loves you unconditionally and the mere reason why a man like me born thousand of miles and oceans away came to your life to love you."  He seemed perplexed by my answer.  But I think he tried to comprehend.  Plus with my mother-in-law's insistence of him going to Bible school every Saturday, perhaps we has able to find answers.

Years later, even in the midst of Tabor College, Marcus again had bouts of doubt.  This was when he was mired in a bad break-up.  Then he came out of it fitter and stronger than ever.  He felt like he was a self-made man and owed nobody for his existence.  That phase too, he grew out of. 

As if on queue before Marcus passed, he finally outwardly accepted God into his life.  A speaker who came to Tabor used Skittles as a metaphor.  This is almost so simple, Marcus favorite candy growing up was Skittles.  I am sure his A.D.D. brain just perked up when he heard/saw the bag of Skittles.  For whatever reason the message stuck with him. 



I thank God everyday that it did.

A year and some months after Marcus' passing, I still felt that I had things left to do.  Below is my email exchange with Father Vincent Serpa.

Dear Roland,

I’m sorry for your loss. I suggest that you have a Mass offered for the repose of his soul. It would be good if a priest blessed his grave. He may very well be in heaven, but it would still be good to pray for the repose of his soul on a regular basis as we do for all our deceased. I will remember him in my prayers as well.

Fr. VS
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Fr. Vincent Serpa

Subject: Question about my son

Fr. Serpa,

I would like to know if my son died in the God's Graces. My son passed in a car accident in February of last year. He was just 23 years old. He was baptized into the Church when he was eight (he is my step-son) He went to Catholic School until his sixth grade so he received Holy Communion and Reconciliation. I was not a very good Catholic (still struggling) so after we had a falling out with the school, we did not go to church regularly. (holidays and Special days we did) Since I was not a very good leader as my son got older my mother-in-law started taking him to her church. She is southern baptist. When it was time for him to go to college, we chose a Mennonite school in KS for him. While there he was mandated to attend service weekly. A year or less before he passed he re-acknowledged his belief in Jesus Christ. My son lived a very good life. He was caring and very respectful.


When he passed last year he did not receive a Catholic funeral or burial. His grave has not been blessed by a priest. The year or so before he passed I was starting to get back into the Church, I joined my Parish's Men Fellowship and TMIY group. I am just learning about the faith I was Baptized in and I want to know what should I do for my son. Should I have a Catholic memorial for him? Should I have his grave blessed by a priest? I am originally from the Philippines, so we did have 40-Day Novena/Memorial for him at our Church.

Please advise.

Thank you Father.

Roland Miranda


Now my task is to guide Alex towards the same path of self discovery.  I fail tremendously in doing so.  I fail in my own path.  But any day can lead us to the right path.  Everyday is a second chance.  The question is will we choose the correct path?

Thursday, April 7, 2011

"Why didn't you tell me to stay in?"

When Marcus was 15 he had a terrible bike riding accident.  We just got through having dinner and he received a call from one of his best buds, Tony.  Tony asked Marcus if he wanted to spend the night at his house.  Being all the way in Plano, Marcus really had to work to convince me to take him back to North Dallas.  He had a football game that night and we were just in North Dallas.  It was also stormy that night.  Heavy rains, thunder and lightning were working against his favor.  But I relented.  So Alex and I dropped him off at Tony's house with his new mountain bike in the back of my truck.  

Usually when I drop him off at Tony's I spend time talking to Marcus reminding him not to leave or go joy riding with Tony.  Although Tony was younger he knew how to drive since his family owned a fleet of limousines.  But acknowledging that Marcus was maturing and I wanted to show him more trust we did not go through the routine.

Just true to Murphy's form - Marcus did venture out that night to retrieve an extra game console controller from his Grandmother's house.  It was late, dark and stormy - conditions just rife for something awful to happen.  As Marcus was approaching Mydia's back alley he hit a pothole and went flying over the handlebars.  His face hit the concrete!!!  He lost a front tooth.  The tooth actually tore a hole in his upper lip on the way out of his mouth.  So at around 2:00 AM that night my mother-in-law called to let me know that she and Sophie (Tony's mother) are at RHD Hospital because they took Marcus there after his accident. 

He received stitches for his torn lip and was doomed to be toothless for weeks.  The first thing Marcus told me when he saw me at the hospital was, "I am thory I leftth Thony'sh houshe," with an almost exaggerated lisp.  The second thing he said to me was, "Why didn't you tell me to stay in?"  Half joking but mostly serious,  now that I think back.  That's when I told him, "I wanted to show that I trusted you and that I knew you were going to choose right." 

This exchange has been going through my mind lately.  I know my son was his own man that fatal day.  I know that his actions were not out of malice or extreme confidence.  They were just actions taken knowing everything will be fine - nothing bad can happen.  I know his mother reminded him all the time not to text and drive and not to talk on his cell while driving.  But I can almost hear him now half joking saying, "Why didn't you tell me not to drive distracted Dad?" 

This time this accident does not end in a funny story.  After the bike accident, before going to the hospital Marcus insisted they look for his tooth.  Knowing he would need it put back in the gaping hole in his smile.  They were not successful in finding it that night.  We all assumed it was gone since his accident happened right in front of a storm drain.  It rained two inches that night and that area is known to flood.  The next morning Sophie and Tony returned to the accident site and lo and behold there was Marcus' tooth!  Almost miraculously they found his tooth.  By the way after that tooth was artificially implanted, he lost it several times more from playing sports, biting into a burger and salt water taffy.

Now whenever we pass each accident site, one makes me smile and the other crushes my heart into a million pieces.  It is amazing that even now when we stop at the Tonkawa exit, we still see bits of glass from the wreck, paramedic gloves or even coins.  I hate this fucking spot, but I am drawn to it.  This is the spot where my son took his last breath.  I will be visiting this spot until my very last breath.


Ironic bag of Lifesavers from Marcus' car - did not work that night
More debris from the accident - picture taken two nights later
the site under water with vegetation un-mowed - picture taken three months after accident

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Two-Year Remembrance and Graveside Blessing

Today we had Marcus' Graveside blessed. When our son passed just a little over two years ago, I did not even think of having a Catholic priest present during the funeral and the burial. I was just too numbed and was not thinking straight. This year I vowed to myself to make sure that Marcus received his Catholic ceremony.


Father Dominic performing the Graveside Rite



About thirty-five people people from both sides of our family, Marcus' friends from high school and college and some of my co-workers joined us in remembering Marcus.









Sunday, February 27, 2011

Two Years

It has been two years since you passed.  I cannot believe it.  Nor can your friends. 

Here's a sampling of the messages left on your Facebook page:

"♥ you always Marcus!" - Kelsey B.

"Your my boy blue I miss you man" - Chris B.

"...no doubt u r kicking field goals" - Dustin F.

"Miss You man" - CK

"You were a great person, not too many of you still here on earth but I'm glad to know there is one amazing person I'll know in Heaven to quote movie lines with :)" - Allison C.

"I miss you Marcus!! i love you big bro!" - Elizabeth M.

"I dont know why someone so good was taken so soon. I miss and love you Brother" - Dustin D.

"Still missing you Marcus Manny after 2 years.We all love and miss you more than words can say."- Kelly H.


"...miss you bro, hope your waiting at them gates when Im called home..." - Quentin B.

"Smile every time I think of you!" - Beth H.

"I still remember the first time I met you while I was working in the caf and I thought you were really weird for stopping and asking me how my day was even though we didnt know eachother. But I thank you for caring, even about the people whom you didnt know. We will always miss you here." - Mary C.

"We miss u Marcus everyday... wish u were here. Tell the big Guy hi for me! ♥" - Brynne M.

"Thinking of you and all your friends that will be visiting your page today...you have touched so many lives. Your truly amazing Marcus Manny!" - Sheryl C-G. --- my sister-in-law

"♥" - Amanda H.

"Missing you always!" - Marjorie L. - my sister 


"You'll always be missed man.  One Heart Beat" - Monty M.

"i can't believe it has already been two years since you have been gone. I miss you much. I see your picture everyday on my fridge and I always think of happy funny memories of you. Like the popcicle sticks in art haha. I love and miss you sooooo much RIP boo. I hope you are having a blast up there and keep watching over all of your loved ones and friends. Watch over your mom especially today. Keep her in a cool calm stress free place today." - Libbi A.

"Marcus Manny, two years ago life changed for so many people. It was hard to accept you were gone. But on this day, I hope all of us remember your life and we unite in that love you showed us and laugh that laugh that was so contagious to all around. We love you and miss you Marcus, but may you Jesus, show us how to love like you loved Marcus and flowed through Him." - Joanna C.

"Love u." - Sarah E.

"marcus! its crazy to think that its almost been two years,.. :'( we all miss you like crazy. I have your frame on my desk, it just makes me smile looking at it remebering how amazing you were. I love you and wish you were here! ♥ I hope things are great up there. MUAH!!!" - Amanda H.

"hey boo. i cant believe I havent seen you in almost two years. i just hope you know that we all miss and love you, and no one has forgotten about you. i wish you could be here, but i know wherever you are, you're happy :) i love you!" - Erin M.

"MARCUS! Just wanted to let you know that I love you so much. I miss you terribly." - Chloe K.

So many outward gestures of missing - no doubt countless more were made silently and more anonymous.

We love you and we miss you kid...



















































Tuesday, February 22, 2011

YEARS

Twenty-ones years ago this month, your Mom and I went out on our first date...


Twenty years ago you met Beeper...



Nineteen years and seven months ago I became your Dad...




Seventeen years and five months ago you became a big brother...


Ten years ago we moved to our home...



Seven years ago you graduated from Dallas Academy...


Three months later you were a Freshman at Tabor...



next thing you know it was five years later at Senior Day



A month later you were in Europe!



a month or so later, exactly one day more than two years ago, you were home in Plano celebrating your Mom's birthday with us...






Two years ago today you washed your car...



You took pictures of the sun setting in Oklahoma...



and moments after that your car was flipped on its top in this ditch...


and six days later, we laid you in your final resting place.



WE LOVE YOU SON, WE ACHE AND CRAVE TO SEE YOU AGAIN.