Random Mark memories

I remember one day leaving work early to take Sarah to the doctor for an earache and calling Mark from the hallway outside the doctor's office to let him know that Sarah needed an antibiotic, and that by the time I got it from the pharmacy, I wouldn't get home in time to see him. He was taking Nick and Jay to a "father & son campout" with the scout troop at church. They were leaving at a certain time to meet the rest of the troop at the church. I remember feeling really bummed out saying goodbye on the phone. That would be the first night we had spent apart from one another since we had been married... and I wouldn't even get the chance to kiss him goodbye.

Kissing hello and goodbye had become a special "thing" with us. Even when we would run into one another in the hallway at church, he would always kiss me goodbye before he left me to go do the next thing. If we were in a class at church together and he got called out to do something, he'd always make a point of kissing me goodbye. He liked kissing. Just little quick affectionate pecks. But those pecks made a girl feel like she was the most important thing in the world to him... and I think that maybe I was.

After waiting for the prescription and driving home to an empty condo, Sarah (probably about 3 years old) and I made out way down the dim stairwell to our front door. There, taped to the front door was a piece of paper with the words "open slowly" written on it in Mark's printing. Grinning, I opened the door slowly, half expecting something to fall on us or jump out at us. Nothing. Everything appeared to be perfectly normal. I fed Sarah, gave her the medicine, and put her to bed. Then, as I headed to my bedroom to get ready for bed, I noticed another paper like the one on the front door, only on my bedroom door. It said, "Open Slower". Again, grinning, I opened the door ever so slowly and carefully, looking for something to fall or jump out. Still, nothing. My bedroom looked the way I had left it that morning. Then, as I finally gave up and headed for the bathroom, I discovered another sign on the bathroom door. This one said, "Open slowest". Ah, I thought, this must be where Mark has left a gag for me. So, ever so carefully, a centimeter at a time, I pulled the door open with fingertips, ready to jump away at the first sign of movement.... and, nothing fell, nothing jumped, nothing moved. But, one look inside the bathroom explained it all... our giant wall sized mirror over the bathroom sink was covered with pieces of paper. Each one taped like before, but each one had a different message in Mark's handwriting. "I love you!", "I already miss you..", "I wish I were here.", "I wish you were with me", "You're too far away", and on and on. The one in the center of them all said, "Lift here to see what I miss most!". As I lifted the paper, behind it I found my own reflection. I knew I was loved. I still know that I'm loved. And, I still have all those pieces of paper..... every one. :)