A letter from my grandmother to my grandfather

My grandmother wrote this letter to my grandfather on November 28, 1927, a few days before their wedding. It's the letter I tried to read and couldn't on the day of my grandmother's funeral. The one Grandpa started to read to me but couldn't finish.

It's a very loving, sweet letter and every time I read it, my eyes tear up a bit. Just before her death, Grandma was unable to write letters but if she'd have been able to I think one to my grandfather would have read much the same as this. It seems as though they knew the secret to a happy marriage. I wish one of them had passed that secret on to me.

I just love the two cent stamp on the envelope. Those days are long gone but letter writing is still an inexpensive, fun, and wonderful thing. Well, it's inexpensive unless you're obsessed with stationery, pens, pencils, and the other stuff some of us seem to be. ;)

Miscellaneous photos from the tin box

This is my grandfather's mother, Emma, when she was very young. The photo was taken in Sweden but I'm not sure in what year. It was buried in the tin box, under a lot of other photographs and documents, in a tiny envelope that also contained her obituary.

This is a photo of Emma and her husband, Gustav Larson. I know very little about them other than their names, that they immigrated to the United States from Sweden in 1892, that Gustav was a coal miner and died before 1910, and that their five children were all born in Iowa.

I really love these older photos. There's just something very charming about them.

Both of these are pictures of Emma taken after her husband, Gustav, had died. In the photo on the left, she's pictured with her sons Emil, Gustav, Ancel, and Earl. Looking at the photo, my grandfather Earl is on the bottom left. The photo on the right is of Emma in her later years.

I'm not sure where this photo was taken but it looks as though the folks might be on the bank of a river. I noticed they're all on their knees and I wonder if this was after a baptism service of some sort. It might also be a sunday school class or some such thing. My grandfather on the bottom row, second from the left, with a penciled "x".

Another photo of Emma in her later years. 

And this is a photo of my mother's parents, Earl and Letitia. Grandpa called her "Letty", "Patty" and "My Sweet Irish Pat".  Grandma called Grandpa "Daddy" most of the time. They were married a little later than most people of their time and stayed deeply in love. 

Tonight I'm going to scan some of the letters and cards from the tin box and I'll share those with y'all tomorrow. 

I hope your Sunday is lovely!

Item number one from the tin box - a photo of my grandmother

Going through the tin box has been difficult for several reasons, most of which are personal in nature. But another reason is that it contains photos of people and places I don't know and there's no one left to help me identify them. I have this need to know who these people and places are and thinking it might not happen makes me very sad.

However, I do know the people in some of the photos so I'll start with those.

This first photo is of my grandmother, Letitia, and other women. Grandma is about 16 in this photo and is the shortest one on the far left of the line of ladies.  I don't know who the other women are but perhaps they're school friends. The back of the photo says:

"Sept. 19, 1917

The day Thomas left Winterset for Camp Dodge."

Thomas was my grandmother's brother. If I ever met him I don't remember but I do remember his name being mentioned in conversations. 

I love this picture. The dresses, the hair, the way the ladies are standing - it's just full of goodness for me.

A tin box full of love

When I was eight days old my mother and father left Iowa with eleven dollars, four daughters, a tank of gas, and the dream of finding a better life in Texas. When asked if I'm a native Texan I tell people, "No, but I got here as fast as I could!"

My parents settled in Dallas and every couple of years, finances permitting, our family took a vacation to Iowa to visit my grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins. Almost all the memories I have of my grandmother are of her in bed or otherwise resting. Even if she was up and about, she tired easily and wasn't active. She was what my mother calls "sickly" but even though Grandma couldn't play with me she spent a bit of time with me on those visits and helped give me good memories. A favorite has always been "the tin box".

The box sat in Grandma's room on a small, lace doily covered three legged table by the bed. Next to the box were Grandma's Bible and a small lamp. The box was faded, battered and worn even in the 60s but I loved to sneak into her room to look at the kitchen scenes depicted on its lid and sides. Each one was different and I was fascinated by them, especially the New England kitchen scene.

Now and then Grandma would follow me into the room, open the box, take out an item, and tell me about it. "This is a letter I wrote your grandfather not long before we married" she'd say as she gently pulled sheets of stationery from an ivory colored envelope. She'd unfold the pages and hand them to me, telling me to be careful with them. I'd try to read the words on the paper but struggled with the cursive writing. I barely knew my ABCs. Before long she'd take the letter from me, fold it, and carefully slide it back into the envelope.  Then she'd hand me another item. "This is a card your grandfather gave me on my birthday". "This is my book of birthdays I've had for many years" And so it went until she decided I'd seen enough.

Sometime around my seventh birthday, my grandmother became gravely ill and each trip to Iowa found her in bed. As soon as we got into the house I'd hug and kiss my grandfather and ask if Grandma was awake. If she was, I'd go to her room and sit on the side of her bed. She'd ask me about school, friends, and Texas. I'd ask how she was feeling, if she'd been to church, and if she'd bought any new hats or gloves recently. I knew the answers but asking was the polite thing to do and I didn't know what else to say to her. She'd smile and patiently answer my questions. After a bit she'd tell me to look in the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. I'd hop off the bed and run to the old cedar chest, throwing wide the lid. Inside there would be a surprise of some sort for me; a new book, crayons, a writing tablet, a couple of cookies, or perhaps a handkerchief with "D" embroidered on it. I'd return to her side, clutching the gift, and we'd talk more about little things. Before long we'd fall silent and my eyes would wander to the box. She'd notice, of course, and ask me, "Would you like to open the tin box?" I'd say yes and she'd tell me to hand it to her and I would. She'd motion to me to open it and we'd start the little routine of the past but within a few minutes she would tire and tell me to put back the box and let her sleep.

I was eleven when my grandmother passed away. On the day of the funeral, after I'd put on my new dress and while everyone else was still preparing, I made my way to Grandma's room. I entered and stood at the foot of her bed. The scent of her perfume lingered. The bed was neatly made and seeing it empty brought tears to my eyes. Everything else seemed the same. Her cherry wood dressing table holding the crystal atomizers and sterling silver brush, comb, and mirror set, the pictures on the wall, her Bible, and the lamp on the bedside table. And the box. I crossed the room and picked it up, holding it to me. I needed comfort and desperately wanted to feel as though my grandmother wasn't gone forever. I climbed onto the bed and sat cross legged, the tin box in front of me, for several minutes. I wasn't sure I could proceed without her there. I wasn't sure I even wanted to. What if the box was empty? What if Grandpa had thrown away all the items? Finally I let loose the front latch, opened the hinged lid and peeked in. I saw the letters, the cards, the photos, and her book of birthdays and was relieved.

I removed the first letter from the top of the pile. It was the one Grandma wrote to Grandpa shortly before they married. I started to read it but the words were so romantic, so lovely, so sweet I had to stop. Holding the letter to my chest, I hung my head and sobbed. The grief I felt was almost unbearable and the comfort I thought I'd find hadn't come. I don't know how long I sat there but suddenly I heard a sound and looked up to see my grandfather standing in the doorway. I scrambled to put the letters back in the box but Grandpa came over and put his hand on mine. "It's okay. Read them if you like. And I know you've always loved the tin box." I couldn't speak and just shook my head. Grandpa sat down across from me on the bed, took the letter, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and started to read.

"Des Moines, Iowa. November twenty eighth, nineteen twenty seven. Dearest love, as the shadows of evening softly bring the day to night, memories of your tenderness and devine love seem to speak to me. Just a few hours since I was in your arms, dear, and close to your heart."

His voice got hoarse but he continued.

"It makes me very happy sweetheart to have a pal like you. You always understand me and guide me in the right way. Each day of this week will be full of sunshine and dreams of you."

Grandpa stopped. He put the letter back in its envelope, placed it on top of the pile in the box, and tenderly closed and latched the lid. Setting the box on the table, he turned to me. "It's time to go. You need to brush your hair." I nodded and stood up, smoothing my dress. Grandpa took my hand and led me from the room. As we stepped into the hall, he turned to shut the door and I stopped to wait for him. When he turned back to me, his face was wet with tears. "I've never loved anyone like I loved my Patty and I pray someday you are as loved as she." He took my hand again and led me down the hall to the living room where the others somberly waited.

Five years later my grandfather passed away and we returned to Iowa for another funeral. When we left for Texas, Mom brought the box home with her. Now and then I'd open it and look through the items. As the years passed more items were added. My sister's hospital record and death certificate. A booklet from some high school program I was in. My mother's will. Some years ago Mom gave me the box, empty, but later I was in a not so good place in my life and gave it back to her for safekeeping. As much as I hated to part with that tin box, I hated more the thought of it not being safe.

Today I went to my mother's house as I usually do on Thursdays. We talked about things, a lot of things. Mom is having a very difficult time dealing with my stepfather who has Alzheimer's. She needed to talk so I held her as she cried. I cried with her. Somehow our conversation turned to my grandparents and I asked her about the tin box. We went into her office and she removed it from its place against a wall and handed it to me. I opened it and we looked at some of the photos. It was difficult but we did it together. She said I could have the box if I wanted it back and agreed to let me photograph and/or scan the contents. I might keep the box with me but most likely I'll return it and the contents to my mother in a week or two. The time will come when the tin box will be mine but this isn't the time.

I'll happily go through the loveliness inside the box, though. I'll leisurely read each letter, card, and piece of paper. I'll photograph or scan them and send the files to my sisters so that if something happens to the physical items we'll have the scans and photographs.

And I've decided to share some of this with you, dear readers. I don't know yet how much of it I'll put up here but I imagine y'all enjoy a good vintage letter, envelope, card, or photo as much as I do so I'll share the love.

To start with, here are some photos of the tin box, in all its faded and scratched glory. It really isn't much to look at but this old piece of metal is absolutely beautiful to me. I did a bit of Googling and found out it's a Canco Biscuit Box with the "Kitchens of the World" theme.

From the front

One side

The other side

The top

The bottom. Note the sticker my mother put on it years ago. ;)

And a peek inside. Ohhh, look at all that loveliness! Is it any wonder I love letters?

I know what I'll be doing later tonight and tomorrow before work. Care to make a guess?

Have a lovely night and I hope your Friday is wonderful and full of postal goodness!

Incoming for January 12th - a day of firsts

My post office box had just two items in it today and both gave me smiles and giggles.

I received a letter from my social network hating, phone call eschewing nephew in Dallas and a New Year's Bunny from TMC at Return to Rural!

I noticed that my nephew put the stamp on the opposite side of the envelope than most folks. I don't recall ever getting mail with that sort of stamp placement so that's a first for me. I'll sit down this evening and write a nice reply to him and might even attempt a somewhat creative envelope for the letter.

I also don't recall ever getting a bunny mailed to me. No envelope, just the bunny addressed to me with a note attached to it. How cute and another first! Hmm, I didn't even know one could send a bunny via USPS. ;-) The best part of the bunny is that Mr. Zip is on the postage label! I've had a thing for Mr. Zip, also called Zippy, since I was a kid. He's pretty darned awesome.

I need to think of something creative to send TMC in appreciation for the adorable bunny.

Yep, today is a good mail day!

LetterMo, my father the postman, and Kevin Costner

Yesterday, I finished making my list of folks to send to during LetterMo. It looks as though I'll be sending a lot more than 23 pieces of mail and I'm okay with that. Hopefully I'll have a good response rate and the more mail sent and received, the better.

On Pinterest last night I saw a vintage photo of a mail carrier. I thought it looked familiar but couldn't place it so I clicked and lo and behold it led to Delivering the Mail, a short but lovely photographic recap of how mail delivery used to be. I had that bookmarked a few years ago but lost it in a crash. Rediscovering it was a wonderful end to my evening.

Speaking of vintage and postal, my father was a postman. He started working for the postal service in Dallas soon after we moved there in 1962 and took medical retirement sometime around 1982. I grew up seeing him in his blue uniform, carrying the then common leather mail bag. When he came home in the afternoons, the bag was usually empty but if it held a surprise for me, he'd plop the leather bundle on the living room floor, inviting me to look through it. Sometimes I'd find a piece of candy or a small toy and on special occasions a postcard or bookmark. To this day, I can't see a leather mail bag without wondering what's in it!

On top of Daddy's chest of drawers was a collection of paper clips, thumb tacks, pens, pencil stubs, stamps, and rubber thumb covers. Remember those thumb covers? They weren't the very thin kind you find now in office supply stores. They were thick and didn't easily fold or roll. There was always a stack of three or four of them, discolored and worn from use, ready to grab as he headed out the door before the sun rose. He would occasionally let me play with them and I remember well thinking they smelled not like rubber but like paper, ink, and the adventures of some kind of hero.

Yes, its no surprise I'm a mail loving gal. I have "The Postman", one of my favorite films, sitting by my television and this evening Sammy and I will curl up on the couch and watch it. He'll purr with contentment to be toasty warm on the down comforter and I'll purr with contentment to see Costner and crew bringing hope through precious letters. There's no doubt I'll think of my dad several times as I watch the movie and there's also no doubt I'll be thankful letter carriers still deliver hope. 

Just Friday morning ramblings, my friends. I hope your day is full of smiles and your mailbox is full of goodies!

A very quiet Christmas day for me

I was supposed to go to my mother's house today. She and my stepfather are alone and I wanted to be with them but the weather isn't cooperating. A storm system is upon us and although it's 49 degrees right now, the weather gurus are predicting a very sharp drop in the temperature and perhaps some snow and ice later in the day. There's little chance for accumulation but it could happen and Mom doesn't want me traveling in inclement weather so she asked me to stay home and safe. I reluctantly agreed. So, it's just me and Sammy the cat on this cool and wet Christmas day.

I got to visit with my sons and daughter in law for a bit before they headed back to Austin. They surprised me with the wonderful gift of a Kindle! I haven't transferred the 200 something ebooks I have to the Kindle but will work on that today.

I also need to write some letters and cards so I'll do that and drop them off at the post office after work tomorrow. 

I hope you and yours have a wonderful day. Enjoy whatever you do and stay merry!

Christmas with my family

Yesterday was our family's get together. I had to be at work at 4 so I didn't get to spend much time with them but I enjoyed seeing my mother and stepdad, sisters, and a nephew and his wife. My sons and daughter in law didn't make it in until after I had to leave for work so I won't see them until tonight after I get off work. We'll have a few hours together this evening and tomorrow morning before they head back home and I head off to a very long Christmas Eve shift.

We had a delicious dinner of prime rib, mashed potatoes and gravy, steamed asparagus, green beans, salad, and rolls. There was dessert of pecan pie but I had to skedaddle for work so I missed that. Maybe I can get my sons to bring me a slice when they visit this evening.

Mom insisted that we open gifts before I left for work and wow, my family outdid themselves on mine. I generally don't even participate in the gift giving so maybe that's why. I got two sets of note cards, some nice writing paper, a passel of pens, a beautiful hair clip, rollers (yes, I still use the old fashioned foam curlers at times), a makeup bag, a digital camera bag that I use for my insulin pump, a Starbucks gift card, and "Marley and Me", for those times when a girl just needs a good old fashioned cry. ;-)

I also opened the rest of my Secret Santa gifts and got an emergency fire starter, a portable knife/fork/spoon assembly, another lovely hair clip, and a case of quilted 4 ounce canning jars! Mom really liked that last gift. We can't have enough canning jars and they're just the right size for a household of two who eat like birds and another household of one.

My work shift was nice but very, very busy and today and tomorrow will most likely be replays. 

Have a lovely holiday, readers, and enjoy your friends and family!