In trying to prepare for this memorial I have wondered and puzzled over what to say in a cultural ritual that is designed to honour, provide comfort, and draw closure to a life. For me, Mark’s life has no closure, as the impact he made in the time that he lived, will continue forever. It is a gift of immeasurable value and the true meaning of the word legacy.
In the end, the only thing that has repeatedly and insistently sprung to mind are the words, “Thank You.”
And so, speaking about Mark today is for me, a spoken love letter of gratitude, from one sibling to another.
As an eight-year-old, I would never have imagined that my red-haired tormentor, whom I vividly remember glaring at with the absolute heartfelt venom and loathing that only a child can muster, would become my dearest, closest friend and confidante throughout our lives, regardless of any physical distance between us…
For that I am appreciative.
For the fact that he would go on to become my only big brother, holding me close when MJ died, having my back, and letting me know that I was not alone because we had each other, as my parents, for a time, disappeared inwardly in their own grief…
For that, I am thankful.
That we became each other’s rock, as we attempted to navigate the desperate loss we experienced as teenagers, when Mum was diagnosed and died from cancer in such a swift, cruel heartbeat of time. That we were able to sit with our grief and draw comfort from each other and actually enjoy being together during that ridiculously hard time…
For that I am forever indebted to him.
For the fact that we went on to enter the big wide world of adulthood with each other as our constant, throughout the milestones, dramas, celebrations and cringeworthy decisions or moments.
For that, I am eternally grateful.
That our bond weathered storms, grew and deepened, as we got older was an absolute delight to both of us. We spoke often of how we so enjoyed getting to know each other as adults. Our lives changed, our experiences broadened and birthed learnings and opinions. Every conversation and visit together brought new insights into who we were as individuals – ever changing, ever learning, not always pretty over the years. And always, always, with so many historical “In Jokes” and so much nonsense mixed in. And laughter. Laughter until we cried, and our stomachs hurt.
For that I am delightedly grateful.
For the fact that Mark got to know and spend time with my children, telling them way too many things about their mother “when she was young” – is something they and I, will always treasure. He fell in love with them, and they with him. He watched them grow, had influence on them and imparted valuable lessons to them. He got to share in the adults they are becoming. He was immensely proud of them and observing their mutual appreciation society – a closed membership of 3 – has been one of my greatest joys.
For this, I am fervently thankful.
Mark, I believe, was the human manifestation of the word Love, both as a noun and as a verb. He loved fiercely – people, nature, animals, learning, knowledge, skills, emotions, and activities – he loved living, he loved waking up each day and seeing what the world had to offer. And he lived fiercely and with full acknowledgement of his imperfections. Every day he consciously set himself up to do the very best he could, to be the very best version of himself that he could, and to give the very best of himself to those around him. He was consistently positive and supportive of those he loved or held dear or in high regard. And even people or situations that he did not like (of which there were both), he never spoke badly of – merely refused to give it/ them airtime, simply wished them well and focused his energy elsewhere rather searching for the positive and the uplifting. That in itself is a major life lesson, and to master it is exceptionally difficult – Mark managed to do so, more than anyone I know, and it is one of the greatest lessons I take from him.
Mark was excited by life. And when I say excited, I mean body-quivering, wiggle-dancing, singing at the top of one’s lungs excited! As I have said before, he was Tigger, and life was his playground – fun, joy and laughter awaited him every day, with brand new adventures around every corner. It sounds exhausting, but that is how he liked it.
The good, the bad and the ugly, were all fodder for learning, and learning was probably his singular greatest passion. How many of us have received countless book, podcast, movie, or YouTube video recommendations that we simply HAD to read, listen to, or watch? He was so conscious of time, of the finite amount we have, and he was compelled to fill every minute of his, with things that fed his intellect, nourished his soul, ignited his passion, nurtured his creativity, and developed his capabilities. There was no mindless squandering of time, and it is another hugely valuable lesson I take from him.
He painstakingly collected feathers wherever he went, tied flies, and patiently fished with them, taking joy in the complete process.
He taught himself the art of bonsai, starting in Cape Town as a University student, and continuing throughout his time in the UK. He loved to collect acorns and cultivate them into little Oak trees. I cannot tell you the number of acorns and cedar cones he (illegally) put in my pockets and handbag during our routine morning walks in Kirstenbosch when he visited.
He purchased a skateboard a few years ago and taught himself how to use it by consistently going into the cemetery near his home whenever he could, to try and try again, amidst the foxes and squirrels, of which he was so fond.
He taught himself how to work with leather – it became his meditation, and he crafted beautiful pieces, meticulously designed, planned, cut and hand stitched to completion. He had diaries of designs – which have always reminded me of Da Vinci’s diaries – fastidious drawings, measurements and notes of every stage in every process.
These things all spoke to the tremendous self-discipline that Mark possessed. This all began when he fell in love with Karate as a student at the University of Cape Town. Even though he long ago had to stop practicing Karate, he always credited it with giving him a fundamental education in the importance of self-discipline and focus which he could carry into every aspect of his life. Physical movement and health continued to remain a priority for Mark throughout his life.
Mark’s sense of fun was infectious, and his humour was quirky and slightly mad – you either got it, or you were simply immune. His imagination was vivid, and he found comedy in the mundane and often times inappropriate – in things that others may have simply overlooked - a sign in a public place, the title of a book, or perhaps the name of a place or thing. He loved to laugh, and his laugh made others laugh, it was so unbridled and gleeful. His joy was contagious, and it carried you with him, whether you were aware of it or not.
As mentioned earlier, when MJ and then Mum died, Mark and I survived sorrow by turning to each other and healing together. When he died at the beginning of May, I found myself at a complete loss and I had absolutely no idea how to grieve for him, without him. In the time since, I have realized that it is impossible to separate us out – whether by history, circumstance, or choice, we are so intertwined and connected, it is hard to know where I start, and he ends. As a result, I am beginning to understand that I do not have to do this alone, and, more importantly, that I choose not to – instead, I am grieving every step of every day with him by my side, as he has always been.
It is, undeniably, the only way I know how.
Mark continues to be my big brother, my best friend, my confidante, my critic, my mentor, and teacher – and I take immense comfort from knowing that he will listen to me rabbiting on to him, with that raised eyebrow and little half smile on his face. He will cry with me, hug me, love, and laugh with me and at me, every single day, until we meet again. Knowing Mark, learning from him, loving him and being his sister is my greatest honour and privilege, and I will always live with him at my side throughout my life, with unadulterated pride.
So, I thank him - my Red, my darling Brotherwise, with all of my heart and every fibre of who I am - and who I am is a result of his constant love, support, and belief.
I thank you all too, for being here today, to connect and share and all be together in honour and celebration of this remarkable human, who has so enriched all of our lives in a myriad of different ways.