The Handwritten Note

Many years ago there was a pregnant young wife, who loved her husband and her unborn child more then her own life. When he received notice that he was being called to defend the country he loved...

She kissed him proudly and touched her swollen belly as a silent tear ran down her cheek. He brushed it away with a kiss and said "I believe this is right. I trust my leader and I will love you until I die." With this he boarded the bus with a smile and a last blown kiss.

Letters written by his shaky hand were her only way to feel his love and hear his heart. Months past and the child was born without him there. This woman did not fail him, she wrote often and though money was scarce, she sent drawings of his new baby that he would never know.

It was a cold rainy night when the dreaded knock on the door caused the stone in her stomach to swell, her legs become water and her hands to shake. Gathering all of her strength and sheer will, she scooped the baby close to her and went to the door.

Standing in the rain was a Naval officer, drenched from the rain. She quickly invited him in, sat him down, gave him a towel and proceeded to heat water for coffee and prepare him a meal. All the while this young man tried to speak to her but she wouldn't let him, she would hold up her hand and silently nod to him, knowingly.

When he had finished his stew, drank his coffee and looked only a bit less bedraggled than he had before. He reached into his coat and retrieved a and envelope from within its dark mass. He handed it to her and said "I promised I would bring this to you personally. He saved my life."

Shaking young hands gently opened the letter. It was water marked (or possibly tear marked) letter from within, she opened it and read aloud...

"My Beautiful Wife-
I know you understand that this is what
I had to do. I will die soon, know my
thoughts are of you and Francis. I will not
say I am sorry, for that would not be true.
My Darling, I Love You."

Tears choking and hot burned her eyes and fell onto the sleeping child in her arms. She looked into the eyes of the man across from her and said "Thank You."

They buried her husband at sea, sent her a flag and a purple heart.

This story, is the story of my Grandmother and her first husband. We found the handwritten note the day she died. Yellowed, fragile and worn from all the years of cherished love lost. I can't say that all the watermarks are original or if her tears joined his on that page. I do know that she loved him, honored him, his service and his death nobly throughout her years with us.