I write this to try and make sense of the incomprehensible, and to honour a man who is so deeply loved by so many.

The truth is, I have never had to navigate a world without my brother in it. As young children, we fought like cats and dogs, consistently and fervidly - perpetually jockeying for favour with M-J, the esteemed older brother and leader of our sibling pack. We exhausted and infuriated our poor parents with our incessant bickering and, at times, hardcore, physical battles!

The morning after M-J died, we awoke to the sound of our parents crying in the next room. Mark crept onto the end of the bed and said, "from now on, we stick together," He was 13, I was 10, and our unbreakable bond sprung up in the aftermath of a loss that shattered our world as we knew it. When Mum died three years later, we clung to each other for comfort, spending all our spare time together. We shared every aspect of our pain and fear, and we healed together because of each other.

Our bond weathered many storms over the years. As with all friendships, we made choices, decisions and behaved in ways that the other was vehemently opposed to. In those times, we clashed like Titans- it was Stubborn vs Stubborn in the ring, and we had stamina!
We habitually called each other out in spite of how hard it was to do, or listen to. And though it sometimes took a little time for either one, or both of us to cool off, we always returned to our baseline of sticking together. "I'm in your corner, I've got your back," is what we always said, and its what we always did. We understood that our connection was rare and precious.

Mark walked through life like Tigger- orange haired, a bounce in his step and filled with great energy and optimism. He saw beauty, joy and potential in everyone and everything around him. And if you weren't in the mood to see it, he cheerfully dragged you along with him, until you forgot your frustration and began to feel the wonder too.

He lived with an open heart and arms outstretched to embrace whatever came his way. A master at identifying the lessons behind adversity, and a master of mischief, wit and warped humor- quick to laugh and find the fun.
His charisma, integrity, kindness and innate ability to meet everybody 'where they are at' had a powerful impact wherever he went.

His choice in music could sometimes be called questionable; his dance moves could only be called enthusiastic; his ability to eat like a swarm of locusts was alarming, and his journey to admitting his hairline was receding could only be called arduous!

I celebrate all that he is, warts and all. He has been my greatest teacher, my greatest critic, my greatest cheerleader and my greatest friend. I am so grateful to have walked the path that we have together, and I would not change a single moment of it. I am honored to have been so loved by him, and am so proud to be his sister.

He may no longer be with us physically but he is with us still. I shall carry his light, laughter and love with me, every step of every day.
I know that we all will.