swell letter from you
snapshots and small packet of
Lake Michigan beach
In a letter my Dad wrote to his then girlfriend, later wife and later still, my Mom, on August 15, 1945, he opened with:
My Darling Lorraine,
Well, the war is finally over and now all we have to do is until the time comes when I can come home.
It was VJ Day.
Victory over Japan.
Dad was in Europe and Germany had surrendered that spring and the US Army in Europe was waiting to see if it would be needed in the war against Japan.
Dad had entered the army in the spring of 1942, spent the next 2 years in South Carolina and in 1944, was shipped over to England.
Since 1942, getting out of the army and home was first and foremost on his mind.
He would mention Cubs baseball games and that he was looking forward to going to a game when he got home.
He would mention Michigan football games and that he was looking forward to going to a game when he got home.
He would write about the food and mention that he was looking forward to my Mom’s cooking for him when he got home.
Homesick in a major sort of way.
Mom would send off packages of candies and nuts from his favorite stores.
And she sent pictures, snapshots she took and studio photographs she had taken.
Dad loved the photos and always mentioned them and always asked for more.
And he would mention how much he missed home.
Mom must have sensed this, I mean who couldn’t and she thought up things she could send.
Things that were small enough to send in the mail and still be meaningful to Dad.
Things that would say, I miss you too.
Things that would say, someday.
After remarking on the end of World War 2, Dad to turned to the last letter he got from Mom.
Dad wrote:
I received a swell letter from you dated the 6th of August which contained a couple of snapshots and a little packet of Lake Michigan Beach.
A little packet of Lake Michigan Beach.
Lake Michigan Beach.
A little packet of Lake Michigan Beach sand in a packet mailed to Europe at the end of World War 2.
Mom had recently had a beach day with her younger brother Carol and other friends and as nice a trip to the beach in August sounds, Mom’s thoughts were in Europe and she put some of the sand away to send to Dad.
Some thing that was small enough to send in the mail and still be meaningful to Dad.
Some thing that would say, I miss you too.
Some thing that would say, someday.
Dad wrote:
Maybe next year we can be there together.
He then wrote, I think it was the longest letter that I have ever received from you … and it was wonderful.
He was over in Germany.
Japan had surrendered.
The war was over.
And he had a little packet of Lake Michigan Beach.
And it was wonderful.
No Haiku For You 