Discovering my father in his love letters
By BILL DUNCAN
The View From Here
My father died during World War II as much a casualty of that war as those who died in battle. He was 59, and brooded nightly in the early 1940s as he listened to the dark, radio news reports of the war and considering his six sons, all within an age range to fight in that terrible global calamity. I was the youngest of the six.
My father was from an era when men did not show emotion to their children least that would weaken their role as the disciplinarian. My father was very much the disciplinarian, believing firmly in the Old Testament philosophy that to spare the rod was to spoil the child. Yet I never remember his punishment being for cruelty’s sake. In other words, in my case, the punishment was well deserved.
But honestly, I never knew how much he loved me until years after his death and after my mother died at age 97. Among my mother’s possessions, my sister, Frances, found love letters my father had written her over the years. The letters were neatly tied in a bundle with scraps of yardage from her sewing basket.
After perusing the letters herself, Frances packaged them up and sent them to me, I guess because I am the writer in the family. What a treasure trove that bundle of letters contained. It gave me a completely new insight of my father and his deep love for his ten children.
Reading those love letters my father had written in the stylish penmanship of that era allowed me, for the first time, to really understand my father. Most of the letters were written at a time when my mother was undergoing delicate eye surgery at Emory University hospital in Atlanta, Ga. miles away from our home. Interestingly, he wrote her faithfully every day according to the postmarks, sometimes twice in one day.
Even more out of character for the father I knew, he was not only sharing in written words of love with my mother, but because her eyes were fully bandaged at the time, the letters had to be read aloud to her by my aunt. In those letters he also revealed not only to me, but to all my siblings how much he loved and cared for each of us.
That side of him I don’t think any of his children really knew. It so impressed me that I copied the letters and made a book, which I called "From Daddy With Love," for each of my brothers and sisters. I wrote a preface to the book explaining my own discovery while reading the letters.
My siblings passed the book onto their offspring and several nephews and nieces wrote to thank me for book which gave them a glimpse of a grandfather they never knew. I am a collector, packrat if you will, and rummaging through a desk drawer looking for that book to refresh my memory while writing this column, I found that I had kept their letters. Suddenly I realized how important family letters are and couldn’t help but wonder in this age of instant communication how many e-mails will be preserved as future family heirlooms.
I still write letters to my family, but even so they are typewritten and will not have the personal feel of a handwritten letter like those my father wrote to my mother decades ago.
I think I will take pen in hand and write a love letter to my wife, Ada.
I will tell her how much I love each of my children and express thanks for her partnership in parenthood. That will be my Father’s Day legacy.
(Bill Duncan believes in personal communication via letter and invites readers to write him at P.O. Box 812, Roseburg, OR 97470)
August 1st, 2008 at 5:18 am
Dear Bill, Just read your June 13, 2008 column re: Father’s Love Letters & would like to comment that I, too, find that personal letters are/can be a great treasure trove for today & tomorrow. When I was growing up in the 40′ & 50’s I can remember my Mother receiving letters from friends & it was a great day when one of them arrived. I also remember, probably vaguely, that my Mother wrote to uncles & cousins & friend’s kin during the 2nd WW, I think that that instilled into me a feeling or sense of the importance of letter writing. I wrote letters to friends & relatives during my teen years & still do to this day, I use lined paper now though & do use a pen, the old-fashioned way. I much prefer solid letters & not the email stuff but of course will take whatever I can get these days when the world is running on such a fast pace all the time. We could all benefit from letter writing, a lost art nearly. And in your case to discover such love & a story you had never realized before, how lucky for you & your whole family.
August 1st, 2008 at 9:42 am
I can remember the good ole days when people wrote letters. After my own Mother died we found so many such things “left behind” of a life well spent but not in a letter, but in our memories of her. I cried after my mother died, and regretted not having had the same relationship which I now have with my youngest daughter. I treasure each moment with her and she’s as I wished my mother and I were. Always doing things together and sharing the days new and shopping and even meals together on her day off from work. I find it very comforting to do!
I did not know when my mother died for I was on another continent when she did. What I regret is not having taken anything when I was last saw her alive, when she said “Take what you like” But the one thing she treasured, I did not want to take from her, her Bible; for it was her only comfort she would tell me, is the word of G*D. It impacted my life too! Yes she and her lifestyle impacted my life and my memories of her. Someday I hope to share some of those memories with my children and readers. And I hope all would not be taken away as other things were. All we have soemtimes when people die is the memories we have of them and being with them. I have is memories of my mothers gentleness. Your article caused me to reminese , for they make memories reminders of past episodes. Memories is all many people have of their loved ones. I wish I had kept all my mother wrote to me now. This goes to show you something’s left behind can be treasures! Boy do I miss my own mother who died of cancer at age 60.