September 17, 1997

I was cooking dinner, awaiting my son's and grandchildren to arrive. That was the last put together thought I would have for a long time. Sometime around 4:30 pm the phone would ring. A person would identify themself as a nurse. She would tell me that it if I wanted to see my son before he expired I should hurry.

The next 18 hours would be spent somewhere in time, not real, not possible. Mark left us in the morning of September 18th, 1997.

I remember him today and tomorrow. The pain is not really any different then it is every day of every week. My child was taken away, killed by another person. Nothing is so great to give, no treasure worth as much as your child.