Mark Anderson Memorial Fund
My dad used to constantly leave me voicemails after he would call and I couldn't answer. He'd say "Hey, it's Dad. Call me back. How bout those Longhorns.. Cowboys... Trump nominees." I would get so annoyed by having to clear those notifications, rolling my eyes because obviously I'd call him back. But now that he's gone, I find myself playing those voicemails, just to hear his voice again.
My dad was 52 when he passed. He'd been struggling with a variety of health issues for years now, but he unexpectedly had a severe hemorrhagic stroke this past Saturday early in the morning. He was in unconscious and eventually nonresponsive in ICU for three days, before the neurosurgeon let us know, sadly, that he wasn't going to make it.
We got to spend a few more days with my Dad before he passed on the morning of Friday, December 16th, 2016.
He and my mom would have been married for 29 years in one month on January 16th. Not only were they husband and wife - but they were best friends, ever since he, a goofy Big 8 assistant manager, asked out my mom, the beautiful new cashier, 30 years ago.
My mom, brother and I were with him when he took his last breath, and though deeply saddened to see him go, we were relieved he wasn't suffering anymore. We take great comfort in knowing he's at peace now, playing the drums with his own pops and brother in heaven. Still, I can't describe the pain we're feeling. My dad always made my brother and I feel like we were the greatest things in the world. He always told us how proud of us he was... we meant the world to him, and he meant the world to us.
As I'm sure many of you know, my Dad went out of his way to make everyone smile and laugh. He was the most social guy I knew - something I'm glad I inherited (though I could never match him). He'd talk to the grocery restocker like he was his brother, joke with cashiers like life-long friends, and treat his nurses like they were his own nieces. He taught me to be kind to everyone you met, to do your best to make them laugh, and to always have a positive outlook on life.
Unfortunately, because of my Dad's medical problems these past few years, my parents have been very strained financially. I've put forward the money for my Dad's ceremony, but my own means are also limited, especially since I'm paying for school right now at UT.
So, dear friends and family of my beloved father and my strong mother and of myself - I ask you in this time for your help. Frankly speaking, my Dad would be furious to know I spent any money on him - he'd rather be put in a cardboard box with a Longhorn logo on the front and a Cowboys logo on the back. But I know my Dad deserves a ceremony where all the people who loved and cherished him (of which there are many) can come to celebrate his life and say goodbye to a great man.
Anything at all would be greatly appreciated, even a dollar. Of course, whether you contribute or not, you are all welcome to my Dad's ceremony, rosary and mass- in fact, knowing my Dad, even if you never met him, he'd still love if you went.
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We will be celebrating my Dad's life at:
Martin Funeral Home (West side location)
128 North Resler Drive, El Paso, TX 79912
Thursday, December 22nd at 6 PM
In addition, the mass will be held at:
St. Matthew's Catholic Church
400 West Sunset, El Paso, TX 79912
Friday, December 23rd at 10 AM
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I thank you all for reading my Dad's story and for your condolences, blessings, and support. I hope that, regardless of your ability to support us financially, you can pray for my dad or keep him in your thoughts. God bless you all :)