Chapter 2 - I Was Mark's Wife

The two most frequent questions I'm asked concerning my marriage to Mark have been, “Why did you marry him?” and “How did you manage to have children?”

In order to answer the first question, I need to share some of my religious beliefs. I know there is life after death, life without all the frailties of this life, and I also know there is a way for families that are together on earth to be together in the next life, where we could reap the benefits of this life.

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My friend Chris lived just behind me growing up in a quiet suburban neighborhood in Salt Lake City. She was just barely younger than me, but we hung out together off and on through the years. There was a chain link fence between us and we set up two ladders like a stile so we could easily get to each other's homes. Her parents were Pete and Esther and she had several sisters, a brother, and big fluffy sheepdog named Toby. As children, we spent a lot of our time outdoors and in the summers and we’d often sleep in sleeping bags in the backyard, gazing at the stars and talking about the mysteries of life. On one of those nights, Chris and I talked about sex. We both figured it out, me thinking she told me about it and she thinking I told her about it.

When I was about 13, Chris’s sixteen-year old cousin, Mark, broke his neck in an accident at Pineview Reservoir. Chris and I weren’t hanging out much at the time, but I heard about the accident through the neighborhood scuttlebutt. It was too bad, of course, but it didn't affect me and I simply went on about my life.

When Mark was finally out of the hospital, Pete and Esther had him over to their home once a week to help out Esther's brother and sister-in-law and to make life a little more bearable for Mark. When I saw Chris one day, she suggested I come over and play chess with Mark. He needed some company, she said. I had never really been around anyone with a disability, but I had been raised with the idea that it is good to help people and to be kind. So, although it was a bit uncomfortable for me, out of sympathy, I attempted a game or two of chess with her cousin who was now a quadriplegic.

I knew the basic moves of the chessmen and nothing beyond that. Being just a kid, I was not impressed with Mark in any way. He sat straight and tall in a wheelchair and did not move the way everyone else does. His hands especially were different. They were smooth and almost plastic looking. They had no wear. He could move his arms, but in jerky movements and with much effort. His mind seemed normal, though. He joked and smiled and even laughed a little.

He was good at chess, but he could have been a genius at the game and I wouldn't have known. He was pleasant enough and he ended up being kind to me even when I played so poorly. Our communication was a bit awkward, but I figured it was because we were strangers playing a game I knew so little about. When the games were over, I left with some relief, but also a feeling that it had not been too bad.

There were a few subsequent encounters, all wrapped around chess. I tried to improve my prowess, but wasn't truly interested in the game. I'm sure Mark thought I was as poor a player as he had ever played. He also must have thought of me as a kid since he was old enough to date and had girlfriends, and that idea was still far from my mind.

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Years went by without me seeing Mark for any reason except for waving “hello” if he and Esther were out for a walk around the neighborhood–he of course being pushed in his wheelchair. I finished my Junior High years and entered High School. I always did well in school and received high grades. I had a wonderful family of four older bothers whom I admired and two younger sisters with whom I shared a bedroom and verbal battles on a regular basis. We had a close family and I felt loved by my parents and siblings and I loved all of them.

We lived on a cul-de-sac that had close to a hundred kids all growing up together. I belonged to a group of friends who got together regularly and planned parties for any and all occasions. I began to date and go to school dances. I received my first kiss from a friend one summer afternoon when our families were on a picnic in the mountains near our home. We had gone off together on a hike and got to a high point on the mountain. We sat down to rest, and knowing he was about to kiss me, I memorized the view of the valley below us. It looked like a patchwork quilt. I was sixteen then.

I never felt like I was a beauty. I always felt I was a little chubby and had been since second grade, but I also had a zest for life, a great sense of humor, and was even somewhat witty. Boys seemed to enjoy being with me and I dated extensively from that point on as I graduated from high school and continued my education at the University of Utah. Some fellows were pretty steady boyfriends and many others were passing acquaintances. I experienced several proposals of marriage, but never by “my one and only true love,” a term I adopted and have used tongue-in-cheek frequently in my life.

I happened to visit with Chris one day when I was almost 21. She suggested Mark and I go on a date and I agreed. About a month later, I was talking with Esther and she also said I should go out with Mark. Again, I said I would, but by the time he actually called me, I had forgotten all about it. We had an interesting conversation on the phone and I learned that his life, like mine had progressed through the years. I liked his voice and the relaxed way he spoke. We talked about what would be a good first date and decided on a movie. Our date was set for the day after my 21st birthday. After it was settled, I was a little scared. I didn't know what he could and couldn't do, what I would need to help him with, and mostly if I could act normally with him.

The day arrived and his friend came to the door, followed by introductions to him and his date in the car. Mark introduced his friend as “Sexy Rexy.” The moment I saw Mark, I realized I had been worrying over nothing. He was so easy to be with and there wasn't even a minute of awkwardness or embarrassment. I had not remembered him being so good looking. He smiled neatly, with creases in his cheeks and when he laughed, his eyes narrowed to slits. His sandy-colored hair was styled in a crew-cut and his clothing was meticulous. He and I sat in the back seat of Rex's car and we all drove to the local outdoor movie to see “Coogan's Bluff.” Mark got frustrated with Rex when he paid for all of us. During the movie we got some hamburgers from the snack shack and I helped Mark eat his. He took huge bites! Afterward, our hands rested next to each other’s and I wondered if he could feel it.

I had a wonderful time with Mark and at the end of our date, having a little more experience when I was 13, I really wanted him to kiss me. I wasn't sure if he wanted to, and not knowing what to do, we said goodnight and I went home without a kiss. Rats!