天堂来信（2）
《美丽英文》作者：方雪梅 2017-04-14 12:47
天堂来信（2）
She looks at the card dated October 1996. “My darling Charlotte,” she reads, barely needing to look since she knows it by heart. “I am writing this card because I have recently found out that sadly I will not be with you on your 10th birthday...”
Six weeks after writing this tragic message, Debra Matalon, Charlotte’s mother died from breast cancer. She was just 35, but she has provided a unique legacy1.
Before she died, Debra wrote a birthday card to each of her two daughters, Charlotte, now 11, and 10-year-old Katie, for them to open every birthday. It is this gesture which has helped the girls come to terms with their terrible grief.
So far they have each received two messages from their mother. There are also a couple more cards in their sad little boxes. These are from their father Alan, sent while he, too, was in hospital, his body consumed by non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma2. Too weak to write, he just managed to gather the strength to sign a faltering “Daddy”.
The girls, who now live with their grandparents, carefully store the cards back in their boxes and put them away. They each have My Mummy & Me and My Daddy & Me photo albums, which they scan while trying to grasp any fresh insight into their parents, or recall the lives they had as a f***ly.
The cards Debra has left them contain a mixture of practical3 advice for growing girls and simple statements of a mother’s love for her children. Reading those words, the sisters feel, was to discover, that the
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She looks at the card dated October 1996. “My darling Charlotte,” she reads, barely needing to look since she knows it by heart. “I am writing this card because I have recently found out that sadly I will not be with you on your 10th birthday...”
Six weeks after writing this tragic message, Debra Matalon, Charlotte’s mother died from breast cancer. She was just 35, but she has provided a unique legacy1.
Before she died, Debra wrote a birthday card to each of her two daughters, Charlotte, now 11, and 10-year-old Katie, for them to open every birthday. It is this gesture which has helped the girls come to terms with their terrible grief.
So far they have each received two messages from their mother. There are also a couple more cards in their sad little boxes. These are from their father Alan, sent while he, too, was in hospital, his body consumed by non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma2. Too weak to write, he just managed to gather the strength to sign a faltering “Daddy”.
The girls, who now live with their grandparents, carefully store the cards back in their boxes and put them away. They each have My Mummy & Me and My Daddy & Me photo albums, which they scan while trying to grasp any fresh insight into their parents, or recall the lives they had as a f***ly.
The cards Debra has left them contain a mixture of practical3 advice for growing girls and simple statements of a mother’s love for her children. Reading those words, the sisters feel, was to discover, that the