Remembering Mark

This picture was taken at Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas day, 1972. My sister Jacki was about to turn 6, my brother had just turned 4, and I was 2 1/2. But this blog isn't about Christmas 1972. It is about my brother Mark.

My brother, Mark Douglas Colombo was born on October 4, 1968 and died 11 years ago today, December 17, 1994. It was about 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning when my phone rang to tell me that he was gone. Mark was in a one-vehicle accident. He died at the scene at about 6:15 in the morning as a result of blunt head trauma. We later found out that his blood alcohol level alone was enough to kill him. We were told that he died instantly, which we have always been thankful for.

Mark and I were never really what I would call close, but I think about him often, and miss him a great deal. He never had the opportunity to experience many of the joys of life. He was never married, never became a father, and only got to know our sweet Bekah for the first 18 months of her life.

Mark made a lot of bad choices in his life, the last of which was driving under the influence of drugs and alcohol. But he wasn’t a bad man. He loved and was loved by many. I am often saddened by the thought that Bekah doesn’t remember him at all, and she will never have the joy of knowing her Uncle Mark.

As I remember my brother today, I am reminded of two very important lessons. First, NEVER drink and drive, no matter how much or little you have consumed. And second, no one knows the day that his or her life will come to an end, so we all need to live everyday like it is our last and make sure people know that we love and care for them.

I love and miss my brother very much. Merry Christmas Mark; I know this was your favorite time of year.