Thanksgiving’s gift of an extended respite was a welcome one. No tutoring, insurance, and only one chance to sub at a nearby high school.

I read, tag-teamed in the kitchen with my better half on some amazing plant-based meals rooted in simplicity: I had my evenings free, which has been rare since September. Thursday, we drove into Maine’s snowy western mountain region for time with Mary’s family.

Western Mountain splendor.

Grief is “a process.” The idea of grief proceeding neatly through “five stages” has been imposed upon those grieving, thanks to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. Fifty years ago, she described a progression of emotional states experienced by terminally ill patients after receiving their diagnosis. Because of her “theory,” those who mourn are often inflicted by well-meaning people with the belief that we should be “getting over” our sadness and loss. If it were only as simplistic as passing through five stages.

I’m not going to debate the veracity of Kubler-Ross’s framework. Others have already done that. But Mary and I know better than most that grief doesn’t proceed in an orderly fashion, even if some wish it would. Grieving people will always mourn the loss of someone special and loved, like we loved Mark.

I’ve spent a portion of my Thanksgiving break creating an end-of-the-year newsletter for the Mark Baumer Sustainability Fund. This is a throwback exercise I’m used to as a writer. It’s akin to crafting an article in many respects. Much more involved than puking out brain farts on Twitter like The Orange Menace does. My decision to deactivate my Facebook account was a wise one. I keep social media at an arms-length, much preferring former habits developed back in the early 2000s when I took Stephen King at his word and committed to the craft of being a writer.

Nearly 40 years together and it never gets old.

The nonprofit foundation we launched to honor Mark’s memory and mission is committed to raising awareness about the planet, promoting social justice, and engaging with under-served populations directly, with a goal of promoting community renewal. If you are one of the 360+ people who our occasional newsletters then you know about the organizations we’ve decided to fund at the tail-end of 2018. Sea Change Yoga is one of them, as is Growing to Give.

We’re also working with two more nonprofit partners to finalize details of awards we’ll be making to them. If you aren’t on our email list and would like to receive updates, signing-up is as easy as filling in your email and clicking. When you do, you’ll automatically receive our latest one, delivered with care to your inbox.

Mary and I are again moving through the second (difficult) season of memories that often threaten to overwhelm: the holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas, as well as Mark’s birthday on December 19, not to mention the approach of the second anniversary of his death in January. Sometimes it all seems like all-too-much to handle.

In a season of difficult anniversaries.

We’re grateful to our small coterie of special friends. Two in particular: Paul Scalzone and Dave Craig, have come alongside us and provided board support above-and-beyond what we anticipated when we asked them to join with us at the start of 2018.

Family members have stepped up, too. We just spent a really special Thanksgiving in Bryant Pond with family and their extended family members. The place will forever be known as “Providence,” a geographical space infused with memories of Mark dating back to his days at Wheaton. I’m sure I’ll have more to share about new developments about this in the future.

I never know who stumbles upon the blog. Because of this, I always like to encourage people to visit the website of Mark’s foundation. Whether you simply would like to learn more about Mark’s amazing, but all-too-short life, or about our ongoing work—maybe you’re looking for a place to make and end-of-the-year donation, or become a monthly supporter of our work to honor Mark’s memory and mission: the foundation site is always one worth bookmarking.

There’s a bonus of sorts, I think, from being engaged in the work of maintaining a foundation in our son’s memory. The work forces Mary and me to push through merely being sad and focus on doing good for others. It helps infuse us with some hope and creating something positive in a world desperate for meaning and purpose. I believe Mark would have wanted that for us.

Still finding hope in Mark Baumer

It never gets easier, but putting together the final newsletter in 2018 (while looking out towards 2019), I couldn’t help but feel Mark would be smiling down on us, especially given our two new partnerships: one focused on the healing power of yoga and the other, committed to nourishing the Earth. These were values he embodied and modeled for us right up to the final moments of his life.