My Darling Skinny-Bumber,
Hello, my darling. At the moment I’m in a position to resume my sweet practice of writing frequently and endearingly.
Your last letter, dear, was a wonderful creation. The English language can be a warm medium of communication when you start putting its words together. Keep sending me beautiful letters, Pat. That is the only way that these next four months will pass quickly for me.
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My parents met when they both left home to attend the University of Toronto. The year before their marriage they were separated by distance – Dad had graduated and was setting up a legal practice in Calgary, waiting for Mom to join him after she graduated. The year they were separated they wrote each other more than once a week. I am grateful to have the hand written letters Dad wrote to Mom, often two or three a week. Although at times the letters might be a bit more amorous than a daughter might want to read.
A Valentine’s letter stood out for me today.
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Hello, my darling, and a belated valentine greeting to you. My valentine token is going to be a bit late in reaching you as it was only sent today (Feb 15). I couldn’t find the type of valentine that I wanted and, refusing to send a substitute or second choice, I decided to send none. But my little gift is winging its way to you at this very moment. I hope you like them; if my memory serves me correctly you had a desire for something similar to these. In any event, let me have your comments. I had a lot of fun buying them yesterday – too many hours to make up my mind. Almost as bad as a woman, eh wat!
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In the next letter Dad asks how she liked the earrings. I only wish I had her reply, or that I knew which earrings they were. Dad loved buying Mom jewelery.
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I note that you are beginning now in earnest to master your part in the operetta. I wonder what it would cost to have your solos, duets and trios recorded at your dress rehearsal so that we can have them for our collection. Check the cost of both wax and tape recordings; the latter is probably the cheapest. I wish I could be there to see you in your costumes. You will be very pretty, dear.
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Imagine the challenge in trying to record with the technology of the 1950’s, compared to today.
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It will be wonderful when you arrive home to join me in apartment hunting, furniture shopping, and planning for the big day. The first week in August or the last one in July seem to be the most desirable at the moment. The prospects for the summer are making me very excited. Perhaps we should be married in the early afternoon and then journey to Banff for the first night. I have been browsing furniture stores in anticipation of setting up our home. There are numerous styles of bookcase beds available, two of which are really appealing. However, I’m not too sure that we shouldn’t spend what money we will have on good living room furniture first and worry about the bedroom luxuries after. After all, Butts, the living room will be the part visited most by friends …
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Mom and Dad wed in Banff on August 7, 1954 and were married for over 52 years before my father passed away in 2006. The bookcase bed they purchased was used throughout their lives.
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Your father called the other day. He seemed in very good spirits so our cold spell cannot be affecting him detrimentally. The weatherman – and the forces behind him – seem to be angry at your absence and has imposed an area of arctic weather upon us. I haven’t been able to venture out onto the rink lately because of cold winds.
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So, here it is February 2018, in Calgary, and again we are experiencing the forces of nature – arctic cold and frequent snowfalls. Today is Valentine’s Day, and my husband has left I Love You hearts all over the house for me to find – in my tea cup, my computer, my eye glass case, by my toothbrush, etc. I am fortunate to know the love of my husband and two kids, and reflect back on the love my parents had for each other over 60 years ago. The art of letter writing is quickly disappearing. To actually see my Dad’s handwriting doesn’t compare to reading an email. Imagine the anticipation of waiting for one of these letters…They are precious memories and an insight into their love, and of planning their life together.
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I love you very much,
Rabbit
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I love you Megan, and I love this story and if anyone ever starts are website for “Amorous letters your children might not want to read,” I’m tagging you for more details. 🙂