My father could not figure out how to handle his daughters' tears. I have to give him credit. He was the youngest of 4 children, one older sister and 2 brothers, so never saw female tears or was asked to understand them.
With mom working second or third shift, Daddy took care of us girls a lot. So when we would cry he had to figure out how to handle it. His solution? He would go to his bedroom and get a large bandana/handkerchief and dry our tears with it. Then he would tell us that he would hold onto it and the tears would turn into pearls and some day we would get pearl necklaces.
So we spent years crying into his handkerchief and being comforted.
When my Aunt Margaret died, I received her pearl necklace. It was beautiful and you would have thought it would have made me very happy. I waited till my cousin's daughter, Becky, was getting married and gave it to her.
And what of the pearl necklace my father had promised me? He did leave me pearls that I will never get to wear. They are for sharing.
Those pearls are ideas and stories and memories. And I will have them forever.
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