4th Annual Relish Mark Allan Memorial Golf Tournament

As I sit and type on the plane, Vancouver is fading away to my left. Beautiful sunny big skies with the North Shore Mountains taking their familiar spot on the skyline. The 4th Annual Relish Mark Allan Memorial Golf Tournament was a success. As in past years, it was a day filled with laughter, golf, good times and good friends.

The weather was wet, the greens soggy but the general spirit of the day was not lost. If anything, there was a mood of perseverance to complete a full18 holes on the wettest day Vancouver has seen in nearly 2 months. As we rolled by the clubhouse half way through, there was a thought to pack it in. It was apparent the rain was not going to let up, but the desire to finish overtook and the 4 of us golfed, drank and shivered our way to the end. A full 5 hours in steady rain seemed insignificant as we finished; soaked through by the second hole we were happy to have completed such a feat.

As we drove through the rain and spent the day on the course I couldn’t help but wonder what Mark would have thought about the day. I catch myself wondering this each time I am witness to something amazing. Whether it’s Noah learning how to master a childhood task, or hanging out with friends laughing and having a good time. Things I may have brushed off as ordinary before now have taken on an extra special quality. Sad in one way as they conger up painful reminders that Mark is no longer here, but then I feel the need to scramble to fix the moment permanently in my memory, simply because I am here, and I can.

Spending a weekend with people who knew Mark and thought to come out and celebrate, to me is nothing short of amazing. My emotions have been brimming beneath the surface throughout this weekend thinking about how much I loved living here and the life I once knew. Trying to resist the tendency to think about Mark, especially when I am in Vancouver is something I have come to accept as a wasted effort. There is no separating the two. Thinking and remembering is a sobering exercise, painful as it is, it is one that helps me make more sense out of the present.

I spent the latter part of the game watching (and shivering) more than playing and couldn’t help but notice the birds swooping around our cart as we motored from hole to hole. I don’t ever recall seeing birds come so close or hover around in such a way. It was as though they were following us and keeping us company. Later, sitting in the conservatory listening to speeches as the rain dripped down the panes felt comforting in a familiar sort of way. The weather outside felt just as it did on the day we all said goodbye to him over 3 and half years ago.

In spite of the grey day around us, the room was filled with an air of celebration. I listened as Mark’s friends spoke about him in a less somber sort of way this year. It was nice to feel the weight of his loss lifted just a little bit more as his friends remembered him and played the game that he loved the most.