Saying Goodbye
Last week, on Thursday, June 19th, my father-in-law, Mark Douglas Vincent, passed away from a long battle with Pancreatic Cancer. Today, we say goodbye.
Our relationship was distant—sometimes contentious—but there were bright spots. The last month with Mark was one of them. While we didn’t always see eye to eye, we both love his daughter. We could always connect about that.
Mark was born in Battle Creek, Michigan, in 1960. He met his wife Rose in 1979, and they married in 1982. They had two children, Mark D. Vincent II, and Vanessa M. (Vincent) Mayhugh. Mark loved the outdoors. He also had a big sweet tooth, as is tradition in the Vincent family.
Mark suffered an accident as a teenager and was bound to a wheelchair. Before the accident, he had dreams of joining the US Marines. He didn’t let the accident deter his heart for service. Instead, he got a job at the VA Medical Center. And eventually settled in Virginia and worked at the Defense Logistics Agency (DLA).
Sitting and talking with him over the last few weeks, I got the impression of a man who loved this country and had always wanted to serve. I remember when my wife first told me about him. She said, “My dad is my hero.” She told me how he had been in an accident, how he was confined to a wheelchair, how he had worked for the federal government, and how he had built a safe and comfortable life for his family.
Though he couldn’t serve in the military, Mark still found a way to serve his country—and that work mattered to him. He wanted to give back to the people who supported him, to the country that created space for people like him to have value, share knowledge, and help others.
I know being in that wheelchair wasn’t easy. I know he lived with pain. And it hurts that he’s gone. But I think he would want us to remember him for his accomplishments—his daughter, his son, his grandchildren, and the work for his country.
In moments like this, the overwhelming feeling is loss. Loss for the moment and loss for the future. All of those future plans are gone. We will never grab that drink.
But just because he is gone doesn’t mean his story is over. My wife and I will share his story with our children so that the good he built in this world will continue to grow.
Mark may not be with us anymore, but he lives with us, and we will see him again.
Peace & Love,
Jeff Mayhugh