Thomas and I played off one another in this challenge, he wrote the fist half and I the second. Just a quick letter as if. done October 31, 2007

A Letter from the 1800’s
In these dark moments…

I turn to you and the warmth you memory gives me. These past few days have been fraught with hardship. So many good men – fathers, sons, husbands, – simply gone. Called by duty, bound by the love of country, and laid low by the grim reality of war. It’s late but I can’t sleep. There are so many things that are weighing on me. Tomorrow we will mount up and move west. Tonight sleep won’t come.
My dear, I miss you. It has been so long since I smiled, felt your warm touch, kissed your soft skin. I fear that I have had to bury that man so deep that he may never return.
Forgive me, as I have nothing of importance to say, no words of wisdom to impart, no plan of action. I am simply alone and missing the one person in this world with whom I have ever felt completely at ease. you.
till my eyes gaze upon you again,
Thomas

My Dearest Thomas,

Never apologize for the content of your letters. It warms my heart just seeing your script. I must be honest with you love. When I read them to the children, I take my leave to embellish.

I tell them of the courage their father has, of the country and the tiny forest animals. They are far to young to understand this war. I fear I myself shall never fully understand.

Our little Sara has just learned to sign her name, her face beamed of pride as she wrote for me. “Mama, do you think Daddy will be proud of me? Now I can write him myself” You have noticed her letter, did you not?.

Stephen is growing so, my dear Thomas. He has his fathers temperament. Sweet and loving. How he needs you. I know love that you will return to them, the man you were has gone for now. Still I know that you will return.

Forgive me for not asking of your next assignment. Mrs. Millers boy came home today. It seems he is missing his left leg, but so many of our children and husbands do not return, not even for a fitting burial. She is beside herself with joy.

I have to admit to the hardness of my own heart. While I was happy for the Millers I cried all that night, for want of you, our old life, our future.

I had to chide myself early this A.M. least the children see me weepy. Is not this what you are fighting for. Our future.

Caleb sends you his best, I can’t repeat the message he sent along with his best, I am blushing just at the remembrance of it…
You can imagine dear old Caleb and what he might say.

Thomas, I dream of you at night. Some nights it’s as if you were there in my arms, I feel your kisses, so sweet on my body.

Other times I see the war that rages and the fallen. I watch you walk among them, silent tears falling from you as you identify and make note in your journal as to whom they are.

Your letters to the families are a spot of love in a heart of pain. You need to know how much that means to them.

Stay brave My Love. There is so much talk of the war, everyone seems to be a General. I only wish to tell you of the things of our life. To remind you of the peace and beauty you will return to.

Do you remember the rose we planted years ago. The blooms this year far surpassed all previous years, their bright crimson glorious against the drooping leaves of the willow. I sit out there late in the evenings, listening to the birds sing. Remembering you.

Sara eyes are so bright with learning, she has your eyes you know. I wish you could have meet your daughter before you had to be off. I fear she will be a young lady long before you know her face.

Your son is becoming quite the young man, I don’t remind him he is only 8. He takes great pride in being the man about the house, and taking care of things for you.

My Love I shall close this long boring letter. I fear I can not stave the tears for much longer and it it time for Sara to be up from her nap.
Stay strong Dear Heart. You will be home soon.

All our Love,
Seren