Sister Pearl's World RSS

Hi. I'm Marco's sister. Those of you who don't know me can call me Pearl. When I was nineteen, I bit into a pearl in a fried oyster in some linoleum-floored crab shack on Cape Cod.

I'm a recovering graduate student, high school Spanish teacher, unrepentant history geek, and budding mystic. I've traveled to four of the seven continents. I always love to discuss politics, religion, history, and philosophy. In my other life, I'm also a wife with really poor housekeeping skills. But I can cook.

 

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asprettyasasong: Eleven years ago today we held a memorial service honoring my father. He died on June 11th, 1997 during routine open heart surgery. He was only 40 years old.  Losing a parent, especially at a young age, is something you never recover from - you merely learn to cope with it. Some days are a bit easier than others but holidays and special occasions tend to be the worst. The emptiness lingers more than a decade later and I don’t think it will ever fade. Right before he went into surgery he wrote my sisters and I letters to be opened on Father’s Day, for better or worse. On that awful Wednesday night 11 years ago, my sisters and I returned home with our mother to an empty house and tearfully read our respective letters. I lost my dad when I was four years old. He was 36. He died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. I don’t have such beautiful, personal letters, like you received, but I have a lot of really wonderful memories. The morning of the day he died, he chaperoned my kindergarten class’ field trip to the pumpkin patch. It was late October, and he and I picked out pumpkins and Indian Corn, played in the hay bales, and laughed a lot. Father’s Day has been, for 24 years now, a very bittersweet day. For many years, I ignored it — treated it as just another day. As I grew into an adult, I began sending my grandfather Father’s Day cards and gifts, as I recognized the awesome role he has played in my life. Grandpa really stepped up for me and for my brother after Dad died. It’s still an awkward day for me, but the older I get, the more I am able to look back on and appreciate all that these two men — my father and my grandfather — have done for me in my life. Thank you for sharing your letters with us. Thank you for softening my heart today.

asprettyasasong:

Eleven years ago today we held a memorial service honoring my father. He died on June 11th, 1997 during routine open heart surgery. He was only 40 years old.  Losing a parent, especially at a young age, is something you never recover from - you merely learn to cope with it. Some days are a bit easier than others but holidays and special occasions tend to be the worst. The emptiness lingers more than a decade later and I don’t think it will ever fade.

Right before he went into surgery he wrote my sisters and I letters to be opened on Father’s Day, for better or worse. On that awful Wednesday night 11 years ago, my sisters and I returned home with our mother to an empty house and tearfully read our respective letters.

I lost my dad when I was four years old. He was 36. He died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. I don’t have such beautiful, personal letters, like you received, but I have a lot of really wonderful memories. The morning of the day he died, he chaperoned my kindergarten class’ field trip to the pumpkin patch. It was late October, and he and I picked out pumpkins and Indian Corn, played in the hay bales, and laughed a lot.

Father’s Day has been, for 24 years now, a very bittersweet day. For many years, I ignored it — treated it as just another day. As I grew into an adult, I began sending my grandfather Father’s Day cards and gifts, as I recognized the awesome role he has played in my life. Grandpa really stepped up for me and for my brother after Dad died. It’s still an awkward day for me, but the older I get, the more I am able to look back on and appreciate all that these two men — my father and my grandfather — have done for me in my life.

Thank you for sharing your letters with us. Thank you for softening my heart today.