January 1955 (?)
Post # 57
My dearest darling;
I hope this letter is one of two that will come to you in the mail this morning. I hope almost as much as you do, I think, because I cannot bear to have you suffer and I know how dreadful waiting can be. If he has written this morning then this letter is unnecessary and I know it can be of very little help in any case, but I guess I felt it would help me to write it, relieve my tension a little anyway. So please read it knowing that you are helping me by doing so.
I always thought when you were a little girl, and you were a honey of a little girl, that when you were in your mid-teens and had any problems that I, in my middle aged wisdom, could instantly resolve them. I was sure that in that remote future (now) I would be so wise and so old that no problem would present any but the most cursory obstacles to my knowing mind. I would accomplish these miracles with deftness always larded with gentle wit. I would be known as the sage of Sagebrush Lane (or whatever street we happened to be living on) and your friends would sit at my feet and bring me iced drinks and revere my silvery hair and golden mind. This is the way I saw the future and it seemed completely reasonable and rational and natural, too. I now realize that as I imagined it the solutions were so simple because I always thought them up first and then tacked the problem on the front, so that when I saw you approaching, problem clutched in trembling hand, I knew what you were going to present and instantly solved it for you to your wonder and delight.
Fantasy and fact—how widely they are separate. I, who was so nimble in my dreams, find myself wordless and inept when you need help so. I know now that there are problems with but one solution and that beyond my reach. I cannot relieve your hurt, even standing by and saying, “I understand, darling, and I sympathise for I remember, too” there is only one answer and we both know what that is.
Very well, you know how very deeply I love you and you know I’m sure that if there was anything I could do I would do it and very quickly, too. This is part of life, I suppose, whatever that means and being alive often has its disadvantages, but you are conducting yourself like a gentleman. A curious compliment? I do not think so, it can be said about so few people.
I know. I know, darling, and I do understand.
And I love you.