In Loving Memory of Mark Pearce — Please Help Us Support Linda

On June 21st, my dad, Mark Pearce, took his final breath. He was 64 years old. It still doesn’t feel real.

He left behind my mum Linda, his partner of 49 years, just two weeks before they would have celebrated their ruby wedding anniversary on June 29th. He also leaves behind myself, Laura, my wife Sarah, my brother Jack, his wife Lilia, and his six beautiful grandchildren: Poppy, Phoebe, Florence, Alice, Bruno, and Mark — his namesake.

My dad didn’t want a fuss. He didn’t want a service, flowers, speeches. He asked to go quietly — and we’ll honour that. But his absence is deafening.

What’s harder is that he didn’t have insurance. He couldn’t be insured — years of ill health and complex medical needs meant no company would cover him. We knew he was unwell, but no one expected it to be this sudden. None of us were prepared. And now, my mum — who has always given so much of herself to others — is left not only grieving her soulmate, but facing funeral costs we can’t afford.

This is why I’m here, writing this, even though Mum would hate it. Because someone has to do something, and that someone has to be me.

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Who Mark Was

Mark Pearce wasn’t just a dad — he was the kind of man who made other people feel like family. The kind of man the neighbourhood kids still talk about. He had an open door and an even bigger heart. Need your bike fixing? Ask Mark. Need a lift? Ask Mark. Want someone to take the whole street to taekwondo, or crack jokes in the middle of chaos just to make a kid laugh? That was Dad.

He was loud, funny, stubborn as hell, and incredibly kind. His garden was his pride. His family was his purpose.

He spent nearly 50 years smoking, but when the grandkids came, he quit. Two years smoke-free. We were proud of him. But COPD is merciless. It crept in slowly, then stole him from us.

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Why We Need Help

There’s no big inheritance. No savings. No life insurance. Just my mum, who gave everything she had to caring for Dad, and now faces the weight of his loss — and the cost of letting him go — with nothing in place.

She doesn’t want flowers. She doesn’t want a ceremony. She wants to grieve in private and honour him in her own quiet way.

But even going quietly costs money.

This fundraiser isn’t just about a funeral. It’s about giving my mum the time and dignity to grieve without worrying how she’s going to pay for the next thing. It’s about saying thank you to a man who gave so much of himself to so many. And it’s about showing up for a woman who’s shown up for everyone else her entire life.

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What You Can Do

If you knew my dad — or my mum — or even if you didn’t, but this touched something in you, please consider donating. Or sharing. Or both.

Even the smallest amount helps. Every act of kindness makes a difference.

From the bottom of my heart — thank you.

For reading. For caring. For remembering Mark Pearce with us.

With love,

Laura