Mark O'Grady

Five years later, we're still telling his stories. And we probably always will be.

Mark and Candi at her 2018 wedding.

Mark O'Grady designed hundreds of kitchens and bathrooms across the East Bay. He worked at Toupin Construction for years, he sat two feet from my desk for most of that time, and he was one of the best people I have ever known. He passed away in April of 2021.

It's been five years now. Five years since I walked into the office and had to learn what it felt like without him in it. And here's what I can tell you: we still talk about him. A lot. That's not something that happens with everyone. That's something that happens when a person leaves a mark.

This post started as something I wrote three weeks after he died, sitting in a fog I couldn't quite shake. I'm updating it now because he deserves more than a grief post. He deserves a real tribute — one that shows you who he actually was.

Who He Was

I met Mark when I was 21. For most of the next 15 years, our desks were literally two feet apart. That kind of proximity either makes you want to strangle someone or turns them into family. With Mark, it was family — though I won't pretend we didn't fight like brother and sister, because we absolutely did.

Mark was an exceptionally talented designer. Ridiculously organized. Genuinely smart in the way that makes you trust someone completely. He excelled at his career in the way that's rarer than it sounds — not just skill, but genuine love for the work. He cared about every kitchen he designed. He cared about every client who trusted him with their home.

He made coming to work genuinely enjoyable. We talked constantly — about everything. Design, life, people, whatever was happening. If you know what it's like to have a coworker who makes the whole job better just by being there, you know what I mean. If you've never had that, I'm sorry. It's something special.

The Work He Left Behind

Mark designed kitchens and bathrooms across Walnut Creek, Rossmoor, and the wider East Bay for years. If you've remodeled with Toupin and your project happened to fall during Mark's time here, there's a real chance he was part of the vision behind it. That's not a small thing.

Rossmoor, in particular, was a place Mark knew well. Those co-ops and condos — built between the 1960s and 1980s — present their own design challenges. Older layouts. Specific size constraints. Residents who know exactly what they want and who've earned the right to have it. Mark navigated all of that with patience, creativity, and a genuine respect for the people he served.

Good design doesn't announce itself. It just makes life better, quietly, every single day. Every morning someone makes coffee in a kitchen Mark designed, or steps into a shower he helped plan — and they don't think about him, they just think about how good the space feels. That's the legacy of a great designer. The work outlives you.

The Stories We Keep Telling

I've been thinking about the stories. The ones that come up again and again, the ones where somebody starts telling it and the whole room is already smiling before they get to the punchline. These are the ones I can't let get lost.Mark with his first birthday cake celebrating at the Toupin showroom

His First Birthday

This one is different from the others. Mark had been a Jehovah's Witness for most of his life, which meant he hadn't celebrated birthdays or holidays. When he left, he was 38 years old and celebrating his very first birthday.

I'm not going to pretend I know how that feels — 38 years of watching other people celebrate things you weren't allowed to, and then finally getting to have your own. What I know is that we celebrated the heck out of it. And Mark was the kind of person who could receive joy as well as he gave it. He let himself be celebrated. That takes something.

Mark's 38th birthday 

The Day We Said Goodbye

His celebration of life was beautiful. Everything from the flower arrangements to the open bar to the custom-made key chains — it was a perfect tribute to who Mark was as a person. He would have had notes, honestly. He had opinions about events. But I think he would have approved.

I remember walking around that day, talking to everyone who loved him. And I kept looking over my shoulder expecting him to walk up. Because that's what he would have done — he would have sidled over with a glass of something good and told me, with complete sincerity, how beautiful his own memorial service was compared to others he'd attended. He would have ranked it. He absolutely would have ranked it.

What He Taught Me

Mark loved his work in a way that was visible. You could see it in how he approached a design, how he talked about a client's space, how seriously he took the details that most people wouldn't notice. He understood that a kitchen isn't just a kitchen — it's the room where a family feeds each other. A bathroom is where someone starts and ends every day. The work matters.

He also knew how to live. The trips, the dinners, the wine, the celebrations. He didn't wait. He knew that life is for actually living, not just getting through.

I think about him when I see a beautifully designed kitchen. I think about him when someone tells me a story at the office that starts with "remember when." I think about him every April, without fail.

We miss you, Mark. And the fact that we're still missing you — still laughing about you, still telling the stories — means you did something right.

Ismael, Ernesto and Moise at Mark's celebration of life