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Dear Mark,

I always marvel over how strange it seems for me to miss someone that I never got to meet, but I do. I know that your parents and your brother loved you with every fiber of their being, and your brother isn't the kind of person who loves someone just because he thinks he has to. I should know...he and I are going to get married here in a little less than two years.

You came to me for the first time on the morning of November 11th. Grandpa Frink was dying, and I remember it was a Saturday morning and I was lying in bed with my eyes closed. And I saw you there in my mind's eye as clear as if you'd been right in front of me. And you looked at me, smiled that impish smile that Mike's told me so much about, and said "It's about time you got here. It feels like we've been waiting forever."

I'd guess that the "we" was you and Uncle Myron, waiting to pull Grandpa into a game of pinochle. He says that they don't play that much anymore, now that all the main pinochle players in the family are gone. Someday I'll learn how to play racehorse instead of just five card. I'm not good, but I'm sure they'll help me figure it out somehow. Did you play? What's heaven like? I've always wanted to think it's like the Nexus point from Star Trek: Generations, but I could be wrong. I guess I'll have to wait until I get there to figure it out.

I met your brother in Auguwt. Did you have something to do with that? I bet you did. I can almost say for certain that you did...you know what a terrible month August is for your brother. One night I couldn't sleep and stayed up, dinking around online, browsing my friends list and there was this guy in a hat, glasses and a beard - what I refer to as my Holy Trinity of Sexiness - just tearing someone a new asshole for living their life with blinders on. I thought he was cute and I told him so. And we hit it off.

We talked all night the day after...from something like ten at night until three in the morning. He sang to me. I love to hear him sing. He sounds so good, every time I hear him sing to me it sounds like it's the first time. And I fall in love with him a little bit more each and every time. He has filled up the empty space in my life that I didn't know was there.

There's a country song out there I'm sure you know - the line is something like "funny how a melody brings back a memory" or something like that. But yet, I'll hear a song that Mike told me that you liked and I'll start thinking about you. I remember putting on a mixed CD I'd burned a few years ago with that BJ Thomas song on it. I won't even say which BJ Thomas song it is, because you know...it's the one that you'd keep playing over and over and over again after a breakup. And I'm on the phone with Mike and he just laughs...tells me that I'm playing your song. And I guess I was.

I want to thank you for being our celestial matchmaker, Mark. And in both tribute to the brother in law I never met and the beloved older brother of the man I love with every ounce of my being, we're going to name our firstborn son after you. Yes, the name Mark Olin Wise will live again. I think Mike's going to be a wonderful father. Of that I have no questions. I have to say, after meeting your parents, he learned from the best.

I love you.

your future sister-in-law,

PS - I just realized I'm playing your song. You always seem to make your presence know to me...and it blows me away every time.


Oct. 22nd, 2007 04:50 pm (UTC)
strange yet beautiful...


Penning Letters to the Dead...

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