Blog 675 – 06.26.2017
A Personal Letter

I would like to share a personal letter. I have a father-in-law who recently was placed in a nurse care facility because he has dementia and his loving wife is no longer able to care for him and keep him safe. His loving youngest son his and pretty his wife tried for several month’s to care for both parents in their home but dad was too much of a handful for even the three of them. Imagine if you can trying to care for a very willful two year old with a man’s strength, determination, and craftiness. He quite wore them out, and it broke their hearts, to finally admit they could not provide adequate care for him.

A couple of weeks ago my wife, his daughter, told me that she was going to try to write dad a letter each week to remind him, whose memory is fading fast, that she loves him. I said I would too remembering how much a letter probably meant to him in the Army and in the Philippines during WW II fighting the Japanese. Oh, joy to receive a letter. All letters are love letters when you feel away from home. During my eleven months in South Vietnam forty seven years ago I wrote letters to my mom and then wife every day. And was so happy and grateful for each letter I got. I’d like to share a personal letter that I wrote to my dad today. He may never read it, or even let anyone else read it to him, or even understand it now if he or someone did, but if only he knows he got a letter today it is more than worth writing one a day to me:

“Dear Dad,

I hope these short letters are some comfort to you. You do not have to reply, remember them, or even read them. If just getting them reminds you for even a moment that you are loved and that your life is still greatly appreciated that is reason enough for me to write them. It is time well invested to me.

I love to write and I love you so that, for me, is a match made in heaven. I wish I could see you and talk with you but those opportunities may be passed for now for both of us. Yet even as the wonderful memories of times spent together like photographs fade and crack the warm feelings still linger even after the memories seem to be gone.

I believe our memories and we are kept safe and protected by a loving God/Universe. I love you dad. Though you may not remember me now you will again when we meet again in perhaps another adventure.

Your loving other boy,
David W.”

Your friend and fellow traveler,
David White