I would love to write a post about writing, but I can’t. On Friday night, we received news
that a close friend of my husband was killed in a motorcycle accident. Instead, I find myself trying to keep my mind distracted so I don’t have to think too hard about the situation.
Mark was a one of a kind character, so totally loveable. I don’t think there were many around that couldn’t be swayed by his smile and his cheeky manner of speaking. The first time we met, he walked straight up to me and said “Hi, I’m Mark, not everything he said is true.”
Many a party was started with Mark’s home made spirits. Many a person was paralysed by drinking the spirits.
He often turned up at our place on his bike, whether it was a classic Ducatti (which he sold) or the Red Ducatti. Both of them sounded nice. One day we even had to patch him up before sending him home because he had fallen off his bike coming downhill. Nasty!
Mark met this wonderful lady who totally captured his heart. They way they looked at each other was just pure love. We didn’t meet her for a very long time after they first got together, so we called her “Tiff, his imaginary girlfriend”. When he finally brought her to meet us we were blown away by her beautiful laid back nature. They were soul mates.
Mark was blessed with two stepdaughters, and he had two beautiful girls with his lovely lady. (The imaginary daughters with the imaginary girlfriend).
My beloved has many fond memories of the two of them on a motorbike fighting over who was going to drive and who would be pillion. They had many misadventures together, as most teenagers do.
He reminded me so much of my estranged brother. They are both tall, slender and wicked sense of humour. It was like my brother turned up every time Mark walked in the door.
We went motorbike riding once, the first time I had attempted anything like it on my newly restored KL250. I managed to throw my bike down a steep bank, the only part of the bank fortunately that had trees. Mark, my beloved and my sister in law brought the bike back up the hill and we continued on. Mark told me when we got to the top of the hill that he was surprised that I had continued on riding. My answer? How else would we get the bike back down again!
Mark’s philosophy in life was to live it to the fullest. Live each day as if it were your last. Mark did that. He worked from home servicing motorcycles, riding bikes, spending time with his girls. He lived his dream.
It is hard to imagine life without Mark in it – I can’t begin to understand how Tiff and the girls are going to cope. They were the centre of his universe.
Rest in Peace Mark, you were only a temporary citizen of this world.