So It Began

Delve into the light and dark that is Mark

It was February in 1954 in Salem, Indiana when the Ivy Sprouts had their beginning. It was on that day when Sharon Lynn Powell and Charles Lynn Ivy said, “I do.”

Wedding photo: (L-R) Grandpa Herman and Grandma Ozell Ivy, Dad and Mom (Lynn and Sharon), Grandpa Luther and Grandma Mary Olive Powell

Now some 63 years later, from that union, three sons were born along with four grandsons from two of the sons, which led to one great-grandson and seven great-granddaughter.  

I had two sons: Dave and Kev. Dave is father to three daughters. Still awaiting a grandchild from Kev.

Lyndale has no children. Phil has two sons: Phil Jr. and Jeremy. Phil Jr. is father to one son and two daughters. Jeremy has two daughters.

My branch of the Ivy Sprouts gathered on Sunday along with Dad and Mom, along with their respective better halves, my sons and granddaughters as well as my sons’ wives.

(L-R) Bill Large, Mom (Sharon Hollifield), Me (Mark), Susie and Dad (Lynn) Ivy

Five days have passed since that gathering. I am still kicking and doing well by-and-large.

Kev and Hailey flew back to Austin, Texas on Tuesday. Dave, Anna and the girls went back to Indianapolis Sunday, and soon will move into their new home in Greencastle.

Front: Dave and Dylan
Middle: Alaina and Amelia on Anna’s lap, Me, Hailey
Back: Kev

I sit here typing and posting to Inside My Mind. I am taking in the beauty of the day in the Cornfield.

I dream of taking a vacation this summer to visit with Kev and Hailey in their new house in Leander, Texas on the north side of Austin.

Thoughts go in and out of my mind.

That’s the way it is in Mark’s Den.

And how is your Friday going?


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I am Mark Ivy, a born and bred Hoosier.
I am father to two wonderful sons, Dave and Kev, of whom I am very proud;
two terrific daughters-in-law, Anna and Hailey; three beautiful granddaughters, Dylan, Alaina and Amelia.

On May 9, 2017, my lung specialist hit me with the news I had maybe six months to live if the chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), the damage caused by the histoplasmosis described below, ran its normal course. I am now on hospice at home. Content and ready to cross over the river to the other side.

On September 2, 2014, I was diagnosed with disseminated histoplasmosis, a fungal infection, discovered by a biopsy of my larynx.
The infection is fatal if left untreated. For 2 1/2 years I lived under a death sentence being misdiagnosed
with a non-specific bacterial infection which left my right lung a “dried up sponge” and non-functioning.
I was aggressively treated for the infection with antifungals.
The treatment ended October of 2015 and fortunately did not take two years.

I suffer from chronic Horton’s Syndrome. The effects vary widely causing various problems.
Statistically, Horton’s affects only 0.1% of the population. Major depression also attacks me regularly.