A letter from my cousin to our grandmother (whom he called Mom), during World War II. It is dated July 23, 1944 and is a little over 62 years old. He mentions that he was in a battle, but he cannot say where or what happened. On the second page, he tells her how much he would like to have one of her chicken dinners. I have written before of her chicken and dumplings; they were legendary in our family. I don't know if he ever got to eat her cooking again, but I sure hope so.
The young man who wrote this was killed in a motorcycle accident just about a year after he wrote this letter. He was home on leave from Pearl Harbor. I wrote about him before, and you can find his photo in my post for Feb. 3, 2006.
I have two more of his letters and I cannot bring myself to throw them out.