Sunday, June 24, 2007
My friend Marc passed away last week after fighting Lymphoma for about a year. He was 39 and leaves a wonderful wife Shelly and three beautiful children Deklan, Mikyla and Finlay. I knew Marc from when I was a young man and grew up around him and his family. Marc was, as anyone who knew him would attest, the epitome of positive energy and vision. My teen years were enhanced with Marc as a good friend and as a lead vocalist/lead gutarist from probably my first real, solid rock band experience. First paid gigs, first in-studio experience and first recorded, produced, packaged and marketed LP in the form of cassette. Marc was the type of guy who could ebb and flow from intense athletics to the deep technical concentration of a music studio producer to giving visionary presentations to stakeholders and salespeople of his growing business. I can't think of a guy that more other guys wanted to be like. Marc had an interesting ability to take things hard but yet forgive people when they messed up. I know because when we used to work in the band setting, band guys can get pretty tired, miserable and self-absorbed. I remember Marc back in the early 90's shouldering the hard work of a salesman and entrepreneur but always diligent about bringing his musical love to life. He loved being with people and wouldn't let himself affirm the negative voices of the world. When I would struggle to learn a piece of music, or deal with any life problem actually, he would hear me whining and complaining and laugh directly at me, but with an honest heart, which you knew was the sound of self-esteem looking at someone who didn't quite believe in themselves yet and I never felt chastised or hurt. I tried to pick up on what Marc's attitude was dictating of me. It was to never look back and to look at this moment right now and give everything you have...I mean really give it. His life was a short journey but it was electric in every sense of the word. Marc worked his ass off for all that he had and I was happy when he met Shelly and settled down to have kids. In many ways it was this loving support that allowed Marc the space to find the peace he did in his last days.
My friend Al and I visited Marc a day before he passed away. I remember sitting next to him, passing him his diet pepsi to sip on, a fan was blowing cool air behind me and the sounds of the papers in the room were rustling. I could see through the window, the evening sun was setting and the wind was blowing through the trees. We sat quietly as Marc drifted in and out of consciousness. Later, Shelly brought his son and daughter for their goodnight kiss and they went down the hall to their bedrooms. Soon Marc awoke, looked at us and said to me and Al that he was "gonna let us go." We came to his bedside and shook his hand for the last time, said goodbye to Shelly and slipped out their backdoor. The sun was glistening off the rippling water of the pool. It was deeply silent. My heart felt like it would explode.