Mark Robert McHose

Mark was born on October 31, 1966 and passed away on February 22, 2014. Mark was a resident of Escondido, California. There are so many things to tell you about Mark. He was a multifaceted man, full of curiosity and enthusiasm. First of all, on a day like today, with the rain coming down, he would be thrilled. He loved the rain because it meant all the plants around him and the countryside were getting a well deserved drink. When it rained Mark would collect buckets of rain water and save them for his plants to receive during a dry spell. He called himself a Landscaper when asked about his job, but, he was much more than that. He was truly a Horticulturist and enjoyed specific plants. His biggest thrill was to start plants from seeds, watch them grow and mature, and then harvest the fruits and vegetables. He had the proverbial green thumb and could make a stick, stuck in a pot of soil, come back to life. His sisters often received flowering plants on special occasions with names they couldn't pronounce and challenging care instructions. Mark was always full of hope. Mark loved the science of horticulture. He belonged to the San Diego Horticulture Society, the Bonsai Club, and volunteered at the Quail Botanical Garden for several years. He knew both the scientific name as well as the layman terminology for plants and flowers. He maintained a drought tolerant garden at home and frequently scouted for the uncommon native plants of southern California to add to the yard. He was so good at what he did that the cactus in the yard became two to three times their normal size. His favorite secret was worm tea which he collected ritually every Wednesday and Saturday at his favorite hydroponic store in San Marcos. Every plant in the yard from fruit tree to palm to flower received their regular dose. Mark's interest didn't stop just there. He discovered the musical instrument from Australia and Africa, the didgeridoo. He met a man playing it on the beach in Encinitas and became fascinated with the rumble and grumble of the sound. He got a lesson or two from that man and then went on to teach himself how to play the didgeridoo. But, that wasn't enough. He drove out to the dessert, cut down several wild dead yucca stalks, brought them home and once again taught himself how to make his own didgeridoo. This involved hours of work, hollowing out the trunks, burning the insides, carving off the plant nubs, sanding the stalk, polishing the surface, varnishing the stalk with resins, and fitting the mouth piece. He worked them over and over again until he found the sound he was pleased with. Each didgeridoo has its own sound depending on the length and circumference of each stalk and they had to meet his criteria or would never be used. He loved reading books though he was challenged with dyslexia. He absorbed knowledge like a sponge. By the 6th grade he had finished the Chronicles of Narnia, The Witch, the Lion and the Wardrobe, the Lord of the flies, and the Lord of the Rings. This caused his teacher some consternation because he found 6th grade reading books boring. He didn't do well with tests on paper and to prove he really knew the subjects his teachers at Tootin Hills Grade School consented to give him oral tests which he passed easily. This problem was to plague him all his life. He once aspired to be a pediatrician but felt he wouldn't make it because of his dyslexia. He attended Paul Smith College to study ecology and environment but writing papers became overwhelming and frustrating for him. So, he just memorized everything. He did go on to take several semesters at the University of Connecticut, Winsted Branch, and earned a Phi Theta Kappa Key in business management. Cooking! What a treat for Mark. He loved to cook, bake, grill, and create special dishes. The grill was his friend. Even if it was a hot dog he would go outside and grill the poor thing. His food always had a flourish of spices and condiments and he wouldn't share the source of his ingredients. He would go about the city looking for just the freshest vegetable or fruit in the markets. Meals had to be tasty and nourishing. Mark had a special relationship with his dogs. His dog Boo was born on Halloween just like Mark, which made Boo extra special. They would hike the hills and ravines across the street from our home home in West Simsbury, Connecticut coming home elated and tired from a long day trailing the woods and streams. They followed the narrow gauge railroad tracks in the Tootin Hills Woods just because they were there. Boo came to California with Mark and his life came to an end cradled in Mark's arms after 15 years of companionship. A new dog, Sadie, brought much joy to Mark's life. The two became inseparable. Mark often joked about getting a side car for his motorcycle so Sadie could go everywhere with him. He seriously considered if helmets and goggles were made for dogs he would buy them for Sadie. Friendship was exceptionally important to Mark. He was always ready to extend himself, especially to people who were like minded. His friendliness was disarming and honest. It has been said there are three important things a person must do in their life; be kind, be kind, and be kind. Mark was one of the kindest persons his family has ever known. We feel blessed to have known him for that. He had a gentle soul, was sensitive and aware, but with a wicked sense of humor that tickled everyone. He was witty and sharp and saw the wry humor in every situation. Mark thoroughly enjoyed Monty Python, especially the movie " And The Holy Grail", and could recite the dialogue along with the actors. Mark was a history buff and especially liked the Renaissance period. He would complain about Hollywood's version of knights and armor and criticize the costumes and fight scenes in the movies. He liked this particular period so much he had a costume made so he could participate every year in the Renaissance Fair here in Escondido. Then there is a full set of knight's armor sitting in his storage unit, custom made for him, which every well dressed knight would wear. He only lacked the horse! Mark rarely did anything half way. When Mark was committed to something he followed through. Many years ago, he met Mrs. Smith in a grocery store in West Simsbury. She was an elderly woman in her early 80's and struggling with her cart. Mark offered to help her and it was love at first sight. She asked if he was available to do yard work at her home and maybe do odd jobs and errands for her and her husband. Of course Mark agreed and there began a relationship that lasted until the the elderly couple passed away. Mr. Smith embraced Mark in a strong bond of friendship, becoming a mentor and counselor. Mrs. Smith made him the son she never had and came to rely on Mark after Mr. Smith passed away. From then on Mark helped Mrs. Smith until she too passed away. He never wavered in his devotion Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Mark struggled with the setbacks of life but he never gave up trying to make things better for himself. He learned to understand what he could do what he couldn't. He didn't like organized religion though he did attend church as a youngster because his Mom said he should. He learned the Bible and used what he had learned to create and govern his own credo. God was his co-pilot. Mark decided to run an errand on his motorcycle. A combination of circumstances lasting less than half a minute became the perfect storm. Mark was not reckless. He actually was a superb rider and exceptional cyclist. A miscalculation, a wrong decision cost him his life. Now, we grieve deeply for the loss of this wonderful young man. He was a good person, kind, intelligent, and thoughtful. It is hard to imagine life without him. We were truly blessed to have known him and loved him. He will be missed for all the years to come. He would want us to go on having learned a lesson from his passing. Cherish one another. Really, any loved one will do. Truly, no matter the length of time, every moment counts. His death has so clarified this for us. He would want us to say I love you often enough that we should never doubt our love. Through a series of always forgiving and reaching an understanding of mutual respect we will develop a strong bond of love. His mother, Deanna McHose.

Mark Robert McHose

October 31, 1966 - February 22, 2014