Accepting what is: As life changes, Mark and Kelley Recker do too

By Kristine Thomas

For Mark and Kelley Recker, this is their story about a miracle. They know people may question or doubt or dismiss what they believe.

They understand it is human nature to search for answers to understand what is unexplainable.

But what others think doesn’t matter, because they know what transpired between them is a genuine, unconditional and priceless love. And they believe wholeheartedly what they believe: a miracle changed them.

On July 18, Mark shared the story from his Canby home. Four days later, sitting in a cafe, Kelley told the story from her perspective.

For each, a miracle is the only explanation they can understand.

“This story is complicated and it is spiritual,” Mark said. “The crazy thing is it makes no sense. There are more questions than answers.”

Both Mark and Kelley are adamant about what didn’t happen. “This is not because of the cancer,” Mark said.

“I wasn’t called to do this,” Kelley said.

There’s a sign they created by the Reckers’ front door: This home is not a place of pity or sorrow but a place of laughter and friendship. Enter at your own risk.

“I wanted to write if you feel any pity toward me to knock on the door and ring the doorbell and run away because it will give me a good laugh,” Mark said, his blue eyes twinkling. “And I wanted to write if you see me feeling any pity toward myself, to go to the shed, grab the shovel, dig a hole and push me in.”

Before continuing further with Mark and Kelley’s story, perhaps it would be best to start with introductions.


The Reckers

Mark, 56, is the principal at Pratum and Silver Crest Elementary schools in the Silver Falls School District, where he has worked for 11 years.

Kelley, 45, is a surgical services unit nurse at Providence Willamette Hospital in Oregon City. They are the parents of Tyler, 23; Keenan, 22; and Noah, 17. Keenan and his wife Becca are expecting their first child in September.

Married for 25 years, Mark and Kelley amicably separated last fall, divorced in May, and began planning separate lives. They shared a house in Canby, with Mark living in the basement apartment and Kelley on the main floors.

What mystifies them about what happened is for many years they followed the “playbook” on how to have a good marriage – they went to weekly counseling sessions; read books; prayed together and attended couples’ retreats. They talked with friends and family.

“We exhausted every possible resource to make our marriage work. We were at the end of the road. It was so frustrating,” Kelley said wiping away tears. “We were so disconnected. We were still friends but there were no romantic feelings. We were on different tracks. There was nothing to salvage for our marriage.”

“I am not saying we were perfect but we really did try,” Mark said. “There was a level of unhappiness in both of us. We didn’t ignore it. We tried to fix it but nothing worked.”

With the divorce finalized in May, they began planning the next phase – Mark staying in the Canby house and Kelley buying a house in Wilsonville. They had a parenting plan for Noah.


The day Mark burnt the pizza

For weeks, Mark was convinced he was experiencing just a really horrible headache caused by allergies. Looking back, he realizes he ignored how severe his headaches were. Always on the go, he would go to work early only to find he needed to lie down on the couch in the nurse’s office. He was taking lots of headache medicine that didn’t alleviate the pain. “I thought I was just tired because of the end of the school activities and graduation,” he said.

On June 18, he went to an administrators meeting and then drove with Silver Falls School District Assistant Superintendent Eric Swenson to pick up his car being serviced in Woodburn. From there he drove to his bank in Wilsonville and then to REI in Tigard.

“I was planning a bike trip with my sons so I wanted to go to REI,” he said. “I know a couple times I must have nodded off and woke up when I crossed the center line on I-5. I missed the exit home, too.”

Craving a pizza, Mark purchased one and when he got home put it in the oven then laid down on the couch. He awoke feeling groggy. He checked the pizza, discovering he hadn’t turn on the oven. He cranked it to 475 degrees and lay down on the couch again. This time he awoke to the smell of burning pizza.

“It was a perfect cracker,” he said. “I tried to salvage what cheese I could. I remember putting two pieces on the plate and the plate tipping and the pizza falling on the ground. I went to get two more and same thing happened.”

Even though they were friendly, Kelley didn’t go downstairs unless she had something to discuss, like Noah’s schedule. She doesn’t know if was because she smelled the burnt pizza or noticed it was too quiet. For some reason, she went downstairs to see Mark.

Knocking on the door, she asked if everything was OK. When she opened the door, she saw their dog running around with a slice of pizza.

“Mark was lying on the couch and his eyes were closed,” Kelley said. “That is not something he would do. I asked him to sit up and began asking a series of questions to rule out stroke.”

She performed a series of tests, including asking him to smile, noticing the different size of his pupils and asking him to do the “drift test” where he held both arms in front of him. If one arm drifts down, it is a sign of a stroke. Mark failed the test three times. Kelley insisted he go to the hospital.

“I didn’t fight it,” Mark said. “I knew something was wrong.”

When Mark got to the hospital, Kelley said his signs were asymptomatic. She remembers hearing a nurse telling another nurse she didn’t understand why he was in the ER.

Kelley insisted he be examined and something be done, explaining she knew him and he wasn’t acting normal.

A CT scan revealed a spot on the brain. The doctor ordered a MRI for the next morning. The results of further testing showed Mark has an inoperable malignant brain tumor.

“The doctor said there is no cure for what I have. The best I can hope for is a quality of life,” Mark said. “I wasn’t upset by anything being said. I realized something was going on with my brain and I knew the brain could be retrained. If the treatments were going to solve my headaches then I was like let’s do it. I am a task-oriented person so I was ready to do what needed to be done.”

There were moments when it was uncomfortable for Kelley and Mark to explain she was his ex-wife and they received a few looks like “Why is the ex-wife at the hospital?”

A turning point for Kelley came when a family member was needed to sign a consent form for Mark to undergo a biopsy. Before May, that would have been her.

“I couldn’t sign. His mom had to sign it. It felt really weird. Here I am and I know him better than anyone else. I felt like an outsider,” Kelley said. “I felt like since I knew him so well I had to be his advocate. I know he minimizes pain.”

Mark knows some people will say he’s in denial about many things. He is putting his faith in his doctors and nurses. He has chemotherapy and radiation treatments five days a week that are designed to shrink the tumor.

“I don’t want to know how long I am going to live,” he said. “Those are all natural questions. I just don’t want to spend whatever days I have left on stuff I may have no control over. None of us really know how much time we have. When we are born, we know we will die. There is no cure for life.”

Knowing he can’t control what is happening, Mark does believe he can control how he handles it.

“My spirits are incredibly good and positive,” he said.

Sitting in the cafe, Kelley blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. The doctors have told her the best and worst case scenarios for how long Mark may have to live. She doesn’t want to think about it. Instead, she just hopes. And prays.

Mark is OK that Kelley knows. He just doesn’t want to know because he doesn’t want to be motivated to do good things or write good things because he knows.

“I have told Kelley that if she finds out I have little time left to rent a home in Sunriver and get the family over there so we have some good days as a family,” Mark said.

At the hospital with Mark in June, Kelley experienced a range of emotions – anger, disbelief, fear and doubt.

“I had gone through a hellish year coming to terms with my marriage ending,” she said. “I asked God ‘Are you freaking kidding me. I was really angry and I questioned why this one more thing was happening to us.”

What she never questioned is that she wanted to be by Mark’s side. Once she learned Mark’s diagnosis, she started making phone calls, asking friends and family to pray for Mark and their family.

“This is the miracle part of the story,” Mark said. “There is no other way to explain it without saying things I don’t believe about God.”

At the hospital, Mark felt something different for Kelley. And Kelley began feeling something different for Mark.

An analytical thinker, Mark knew to proceed with caution and not to make an emotional decision when he was just diagnosed with cancer.

“In the hospital, I picked up on something different for how Kelley was feeling about me. It was unconditional love. I know that sounds sappy, but I felt she just plain loves me. Not because I was needy and she was a nurse. God changed her and God changed me in some way,” Mark said. “I am still me. She is still her. Somehow, God opened us to accept and show love for each other. A love we have never experienced in the last 25 years.”

Mark knows some people will believe Kelley came to her senses because she knew she was going to lose him. Mark doesn’t believe God would do that, nor that God gave him cancer or a divorce so they could reconcile.

“I do believe this is mysterious and there are some things we won’t understand,” he said. “At this time, I am accepting this gift and enjoying the gift.”

Kelley shared with their son Keenan how she was feeling. He told her that yes, she did love Mark. When she said she wanted to be with Mark, Keenan’s response was “Mom, it is really easy to get married.”

A few days after they returned from the hospital, Kelley was sitting on the floor and Mark in the recliner. She held his hand and told him, “Mark, I want to be the one to take care of you. I want to be with you and I love you. Will you marry me?”

“He didn’t say yes at first and I understood,” she said. “Then we were for a walk and he said what do you think about going to Cannon Beach for our honeymoon.”

It took a week to plan a wedding. They remarried on July 6 with more than 100 friends and family members attending. Both said there is a new level of openness and comfort in their home. Their sons are content, thrilled and happy that their parents remarried.

“One thing in the vows we said is that God doesn’t promise a life without pain,” Mark said. “He does love us and occasionally gives us tastes of heaven. One taste of heaven is time with friends. I am fortunate to have lots of good friends. If this is what heaven is like, sign me up. I now have a taste of heaven with this beautiful woman. There is an ease and intimacy I have with my wife.”

Before they remarried, their pastor asked them what had changed between them.

“I just know when I was in the hospital I wanted to be there for him. I couldn’t live without him,” Kelley said. “I couldn’t walk away. We are family.”

They know what happened to them doesn’t make sense. They are content to accept what it is.

“Mark and I feel God changed us. We know that sounds really crazy and we know it is crazy,” Kelley said. “Life is really sweet right now. And the deep level of intimacy is like nothing either of us experienced before. It is genuine, sweet, real… and there is no explanation. There is something miraculous that happened.”