Sometimes, you can go years without seeing or speaking to someone, but time changes nothing. With some people, when the need is there, without you even asking, they step up.
Such is the case with my mate Mark.
Mark was my next door neighbour at Stone Manor when I was growing up. He is a couple of years older than me, and was like my big brother. We grew up together, and went to the same schools. He would look out for me in primary school and high school, before he transferred to the tech to study mechanics.
As we got older, we would hang out together, and cruise in his hotted up street machines. Nothin’ so great as a thumpin’ V8.
He and his friends frequented my father’s garage, because that’s where all the rev-head action was. They all loved Nev, and particularly Iris’ cakes.
As we grew older, our lives headed in different directions; careers and social lives defining our paths. Thought we weren’t in regular contact, Mark always was with Mum and Dad.
When Dad passed away in 2009, Mark was completely devastated. He said to me just the other day that he took it for granted that Nev would always be there. There was just no question about it, and still, nearly two years later, he still couldn’t’ believe he was gone.
When someone passes away, it’s interesting to see how differently people can react. Some run and hide, some openly grieve, some hide their feelings and some are there for you every step of the way.
And some step up and do the most extraordinary things; things you simply wouldn’t expect.
Such is the case with my mate Mark.
Dad, as previously mentioned, was a rev-head. He loved cars. He loved restoring them, tinkering with them, servicing them; you name it. This rubbed off onto Mark in a major way, and as such, he became a mechanic (and a major rev-head himself). Mark was like a son to him.
Dad use to service Mum’s car on a regular bases. He was just one of those blokes that knew what he was doing, and kept the car in good running order. That all ended when he passed away, but that’s when Mark stepped in.
He couldn’t bear the thought of Mum taking her car to a mechanic, and being taken advantage of. Not that all mechanics do that, but he was just worried it could happen to her. Someone out there could take advantage of her age and ignorance. He said he couldn’t live with himself if that happened, so he made a deal with Iris. He would come and service her car every three months, and she would just pay him for the parts he used.
Like clockwork, he would turn up, take her car, service it and return it. He would advise if she needed the brakes attended to, or if something needed replacing. He was all over it for her, because he wanted to protect her like Nev would have wanted.
I thought this was just gorgeous.
So a few months ago, we tell Mark that Mum’s selling up, and he was quite emotional about it. He completely understood, but like everyone else, was sad at the knowledge that The Stone’s will no longer be residing at 18 Suzanne Street.
I said to him about a month ago, to go through Dad’s garage and take anything he wants. Charlie’s done the same thing, and left heaps of stuff for Mark that he didn’t feel he needed himself.
Mark said he felt guilty doing that. I told him to have a mug of concrete and get into it, because Nev would love it. That was all the motivation he needed! Hahhaaaa!
So, Mark went to town on the garage. He sorted out the good stuff from the rubbish, and made a big pile in the middle of the garage of shit that can be tossed. He organised a skip for Iris to come on Thursday through one of his mates, so Iris wouldn’t get shafted in paying too much for a skip. Bless.
He said he’ll call around Thursday after work, with Troy, and throw this crap into the skip for Iris, because he can’t have her doing that. Forget that Charlie and I will be there on Friday to clean up. No; Iris can’t be handling any rubbish. He’ll do it for her.
He’s gone through just about everything in the shed, admitting that he and his son Troy (who’s 11) wre having the time of their lives. He said that he remembered a lot of things he’d found in there, from when he was a kid. He remembered tools he and Nev had used together, and found a spray kit and buffer which they’d used to re-spray many cars. He was having the time of his life sorting through a life’s collection of crap.
He helped me take some furniture to the Salvo’s on the weekend, which I’ve blogged about before, and he’s been so helpful with the garage, it’s not funny. I feel that, without his help, we would never have got the place cleaned out in time.
When Iris said that she was looking at buying a new car, and considering a Holden Cruise, Mark rang his wife Mandy, and asked her to bring her car around so Iris could check it out. It was a Holden Cruise, and Mark was concerned that Iris would have trouble getting in and out of it. At least she could try it and chat to Mandy about it, was his reasoning. Bless.
And it’s all done through sentiment. All through the love that he also has for Stone Manor, for Iris, and for his beloved friend Nev. The man that treated him like a son, taught him so much, and asked for nothing in return.
Maybe this is his way of saying thank you.
As I watched him and his son scoff their meat pies for lunch on Sunday, I couldn’t help but smile. I remember a young Mark doing exactly the same thing with Nev; scoffing a pie and some coke for lunch on a Sunday. Good times. Good memories.
That’s why I love my mate, Mark. My old neighbour; my big brother. He is a simple person, with a kind heart, and the things he has done for Iris, and indirectly for me, will never be forgotten.
Nev would be proud of the man that he has become.
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