My First Angel

While working at Sweet Frog one day last year, I saw a family come in wearing St. Bridget’s uniforms. I started talking to them, maybe they would know my cousins, “My family went to St. Bridget’s, the Gerloffs”. 

“Oh, I know them. I went to St. Bridget’s a long time ago with them” The father answered, then followed up with the most unexpected thing, “Yeah, Peter”.

My uncle Peter died thirty-six years ago Monday, and so I never got to meet him. He was a freshman at VCUarts when he was a tragic car accident and died. I don’t know much about him, other than when he was in Daddy’s stories about his youth. Peter went to St. Bridget’s as a child, but unlike his older brothers, he attended Henrico Center for the Arts instead of Benedictine.I can only imagine what kind of shenanigans he got into as a young man/art student. He was beyond excited to attend VCU, according to my grandma. After his death, one of his friends met Andy Warhol when he came to the VMFA, and told the artist how much Peter admired his work. Andy wrote a little note to my grandma, “To Pete”, scribbled a can of Campbell’s soup and slipped his name down at the bottom. 

My daddy had a special affinity towards Peter, so it’s quite ironic that his first child considers herself an artist  while his bleach blonde, blue eyed baby boy was the spitting image of Peter as a child (or so I’ve been told). 

Although I’ve never met him, I do feel close to Peter. I claim him as my original guardian angel, but that’s a selfish statement. He  watches over James,  our cousins, as well as my uncles and grandma. I know he’s having a ball with my daddy and my granddaddy. Thank you Peter, for always being there for me. Even if we haven’t met, you’ve been a great influence and angel in my life and I’m happy to call you mine. 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “My First Angel

  1. I grew up with Peter. He was one of my best friends! I thought he had passed away much younger than that. My memory does not serve me well. I must not have seen Peter for several years before he passed. We became friends at St. Bridget’s and for me to see him meant I had to have a ride, or he would get a ride to see me. That was a very long time ago. I can’t help but feel like there is some reason he has come back up in my life at this time! God Bless! Michael Cahen

Facebook likes are fun, but blog comments are better

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s