Remembering Mark Keen

Mark,

I know you aren't on this earth any longer but I just wanted to write this letter to you to tell you how much your life meant to me.

I don't know when I met you. I was young, maybe 10 at the time. You were just an immature boy that my brother brought over to hang out and spend the night from time.

At some point I began to have a crush on you. You were tall and handsome and quick to smile. Your pet name for me "Toejam" sounded like music to my ears. It never occurred to me to be disgusted. I knew you weren't putting me down. I felt special because you cared enough to call me something other than Heather.

I was just a little sister to you though and even though we saw each other at every one of my family functions for years, a deeper relationship was not to be had. I found a diary entry I had written about you when I was going through a box of junk after your funeral. It said that I didn't think I was actually in love with you that my feelings stemmed more from the confusion of loving someone so much who wasn't a family member and who was also a member of the opposite gender. Mostly it was just convenience. I didn't get out much and you were always at my house.

I am so grateful that our relationship was ever platonic. However, I know there were times when you were extra sweet to me just to make a moment special. Like at the Halloween bonfire at my parent's place. Almost Paradise was playing and you slow danced with me. It was one of the most wonderful memories of my adolescence. Thinking back, I can still see your face by the glow of the firelight and my friends were all giggly because they knew how much it meant to me. We all talked about it for weeks.

I remember how you and Roger would sing in this private language to have food passed to you at the dinner table and all of would just laugh at you two. I remember the way you looked in your tux at my brother's wedding and that you were the one who escorted me back down the aisle after the vows, arm in arm. You carried my grandmother's casket at her funeral. I was thankful you were there.

None of us will ever forget the sunken truck incident and Dad hollering, "The Brake, the brake!" but you pushed the clutch instead.

God has put the brake on your life here on Earth but I'll bet you are up there pushing clutches, grinning broadly, and singing in your own private language. You were truly unique, a friend to remember always. My own memories of you are endless. the ones I have mentioned are just the tip of the iceberg. I hope that my family and I made as good an impression on your life as you did ours. Thank you for living for 35 years. Thank you for being my friend.

Mark's Obituary