My father was recently given a set of letters written by his father (now gone these fifty years and more) to a friend in the early 1940’s.
This was the first time our family had seen the letters. Among lighthearted notes on singings and youth news and extended family, and a few more sober thoughts on the war, I found this gem I loved.
“But if I don’t get to see you
I will see what I can do
Seems funny that scribbling like this
will tell others
what you mean.”
I never got to meet him. But I knew he was a kindred spirit.