My Darling Girl...

Quick update as regards yesterday's post.

I've made a basic list of everything in the suitcase. There was more in there than I thought, let me tell you!

I'm also about half-way through organising the loose letters into date order. I don't want to undo the tied-in-a-bunch ones just yet.

I haven't read many of them yet, just the odd one or two, but I noticed that my grandad had sent my grandmother 2 letters at the same time on the same day, but bound for different addresses. Curious, I thought, so I investigated. Turns out one was sent to her NAAFI base for reading probably the day after posting, and the other was sent to her home to be waiting for her when she returned.

The following is the latter letter (hehe).

24 May 1945

My Darling Girl,

Am writing this letter to you my love as I promised, for when you come home from that old Naafi.

Darling I am with you right this very moment, in my thoughts, I am putting my arms around & whispering I love you darling girl of mine.

Sweetheart when I was in your arms last night you said to me, "put your arms around me dear", it came straight from your heart dearest because you said it so lovely.

I received your letter from the kiosk this morning dearest, telling me all the news, but I was so happy to hear it from your own lips, it sounds more thrilling, to hear your own plans for us, gosh you make me so happy & in love with you, are you feeling better now my love.

I hope you have forgiven me darling because honestly I love you truly & no other, & I wish to let you love me freely as the air in heaven above Gracie sweetheart, your an angel incognito I am sure, come down to love me.

So darling mine, I am kissing you right now as you lay in bed in my thoughts, now sweetheart just relax & go to sleep with those lovely eyes you have closed with my lips kissing them lightly, and now darling as you drop off into a beauty sleep, I am holding you in my arms and telling you I'm your true love & that I adore you for evermore, & will protect you with my body through life's way.

Goodnight darling girl & God bless you sweetheart & dream of me as I will of you. Darling from my soul I worship you & I trust you find it worthy of your great love for you are just lovely so darling till tomorrow's letter & Sat at 2 I kiss you goodnight.

George.

Then 66 'x's. I counted them. Plus a bunch of what I think are 'x's, but they get so small I can't count them. There's approx. 35 of them.

If only I could write with such feeling. Of course it would help to have someone to practice writing to. Ladies... ;)

Covert Operation

Some of you were asking after another post, so here it is. It probably won't be what you were waiting for though.

In my loft is an old suitcase that belonged to my grandad until he died. It's been ours for years now, but it's not the suitcase that interests me (for good reason - it's falling apart and smells a bit weird). No, it's the contents that I want to get my hands on.

It contains several relics from my grandad's days as a soldier - medals, an army mug, a knife he bought at a bazaar, stuff like that. What I really want to look at though is the probably hundreds of letters sent between him and my grandmother during the '40s and maybe early '50s. This was back in the days when local mail was delivered 3 times a day, so my grandparents, particularly my grandad, seem to have taken the opportunity to send mail 3 times a day and run amok. This was over a few years, so the letters have built up a bit.

Now, my grandad was no poet, but the love he has for my grandmother is so obvious in these letters, and so pure, it enough to make you cry.

Unfortunately I have only had the chance to read one or two as my mum is adamant that they are private letters and should be left well alone. I'm wise enough to leave well alone and not point out that the letters were written 60 years ago, both subjects of these letters have been dead for about 6 years, and that they likely would not have minded us reading them even when they were alive.

However they have too big a pull on my mind. The romantic in me wants to pick up tips, the genealogist in me wants to search for clues about their lives, the archivist in me wants to put them all in chronological order (they're all mixed up right now).

And tomorrow everyone but my brother goes on holiday for a week. A week of evenings in which nobody will be any the wiser. Except, now, the whole of the internet. But you won't tell anyone, will you Internet?

It may seem like a particularly sad and nerdy waste of an evening, but I'm not likely to get a chance like this for another year or more, so I'm taking the opportunity by the horns. Or by the 50+ year old suitcase.

If I find a really good one, maybe I'll even type it up for the blog.

Blogged to the sound of Forever Faithless, Faithless.