We had a nice, calm Thanksgiving with my parents, two of three siblings, and a flyby from one of the seven grandchildren. I think this is the first time the meal was completely handled by the Hoff sisters. This is not to say my parents didn’t provide input. I chose the easy path and arrived with my contributions already prepared.
Three of my classmates lost their fathers in the last week. It’s weird being at the age where it’s 50/50 whether your parents are still alive. I can’t imagine ever being prepared to be orphaned.
A friend of mine died recently. I only found out Mark was sick a couple months ago. He’d gone in for a colonoscopy a year ago and the cancer was discovered – and it was everywhere from the very beginning. This the cancer story I dread more than any other – a grim discovery, followed by the launch of aggressive treatment, and from that moment a switch is flipped and the months and weeks leading to death are full of pain, discomfort, growing indignities and waning hope.
Mark’s funeral was the biggest social event I’ve attended in years. I guess funerals are the keg parties of our 50s. He was four years older than me, but through various inroads to that older class, including brothers of my friends and assorted parties, I met not only Mark but many in his circle; when I left my hometown, I latched on to the safety of the Fergus Falls expats living in Minneapolis. If my life was a TV series that starts when I’m 20 and just moving to the big city, Mark would be a regular in the first season, have a brief appearance in Season 3, and now in Season 5, this is the episode covering the funeral.
We didn’t “date.” We’d see each other occasionally, with no real interest for more than that. He worked at Best Buy for a while; I remember dropping in to say hi. (There were no cellphones, no texting and no Facebook – you had to drive across town and wander aimlessly in the appliances section if you wanted to do a casual check in.) If we were in the same place at the same time (we never went anywhere together), we’d dance all night. I remember, at some wedding dance, Mark’s twin sister told me, “He likes you, I can tell,” and that made me happy. I liked him, too. Very much. He always called me Kathryn. He was very funny. I remember him talking excitedly to the plants in his apartment: “Hey guys, it’s Plant Day tomorrow!!” There’s a lot of booze in his Season 1 appearances. Once I stayed with him and dropped him off very early in the morning at a weekend detention center, penance for getting caught driving under the influence. By Season 3 he was sober and slender, and recently out of a marriage to a mean wife. Season 5 flashbacks show that everything straightened out for Mark: he had a lovely, sweet and devoted wife, a beagle, and a job he liked with people who appreciated him. His wife is from Taiwan, and he traveled there with her a couple times. I’m glad he got all of that. I’m glad he was happy. I will miss him, and hold on to my vivid memories of us dancing and laughing.