Mark was born in the desert 8 years ago and longs to return there. His early and idealized memories include playing in fine, dusty dirt, chasing lizards when they tried to sun themselves on the fence, and catching toads when it rained.
He has always thought of himself as one of the big kids and has followed them everywhere. He’s well-traveled in museums, parks, baseball games, and dance and music performances.
He is my only child who ever wanted to snuggle in my lap.
His birthday wish list included only Legos and a watch. (Easy!)
Remember when he was 4 and wanted to be called “Zoomer-Smasher-Dune Buggy?”
Remember when he was 3 and he wore that sombrero all over Nogales, Mexico?
Little memories of my redhead dash across my thoughts today. Little boy body dressed in a Superman cape, chasing brothers up the street… Little studious boy with his own desk in the corner of the home school room, working on math problems… Little boy jumping around on his base during the baseball game because he can’t hold still… Little boy with a closet full of red shirts…sweet baby in the crib, making a nest of blankets and stuffed animals… little boy driving around the grassy field in his jeep playing hard rock music on the radio… little boy snickering under the covers as he reads Calvin and Hobbes books at bedtime…
I can’t imagine life without our Mark, Markie-boy, Marco Polo.