A good friend, Mark Forsyth, was killed in a motorcycle accident last week. The hardest part of being so far away is not being able to personally mourn with those that mourn.
Since I got the news, I've been thinking about the Forsyth family a lot. One "Mark" story comes to mind. Well, it's really a Mark and Liz story.
We were at their house for a party of some sort. (I think it was probably for one of the YSA that we both had the privilege of "parenting.") My Daniel was 4 months old. I was chatting with Liz and some other women and the topic turned to children (of course).
Liz said, "Isn't it so fantastic to see their little faces on their first birthday when they get their first taste of sugar?" At this very moment, Mark was feeding my four month old pumpkin roll cake.
I smile every time I think of that, because I seriously doubt the Forsyth children first tasted sugar on their 1st birthdays. I think they just tasted sugar in front of their mother on their first birthday.
We miss Mark. We love all the Forsyths, and wish we could be there.
(And for the record, I told Mark to stop feeding my baby dessert.)