Saying good-bye before ever saying hello.

This weekend has been a mixed bag of pleasure, family, and friends. So in other words it's been a great weekend.  I headed out to the library Saturday morning for a few hours and received unexpected news that a friend passed away unexpectedly Friday night. He had been my pen pal for the last six months. Living only about 5 minutes away, I never met him. I was supposed to meet him next month at a historical society meeting...but instead I'll be saying good-bye to him before ever getting to say hello in person. 

I'm heart broken. I have a stack of his letters that answered so many questions that I had about our home, the family that settled here, local history, cemetery information, anything and everything that I was curious about I would write to him and he would respond. In December I had a burning question. I would run out to the mailbox each day hoping to get a letter from him and I didn't. Then one day I received a note that said he would write me the second week of January. Ah, the suspense was killing me...but it was fun. I looked forward to reading what only he knew...His knowledge was vast. From what I learned from others who were his friends, he could remember everything he read. He was a wealth of knowledge...certainly no one like him. 

Over the past six months I wrote my pen pal on various paper that was buried in the bottom of my desk drawer like brightly colored cards that said {hi} on the front, or on a random sheet of computer paper.  He always wrote shorter notes on pretty cards with a lady on the front or on simple stationary. When it came time to answer my laundry list of questions, they all began with "Dear lovely Lady" and he wrote several pages of legal paper that were dated, numbered and written in beautiful cursive. His letters and notes were always neatly tucked in an envelope and adorned with stamps that were all unique. I feel like through his writing, penmanship, and carefully chosen stamps that I truly was getting to know him. 

Since our banter had continued for so long, and I was out of any good writing paper, I bought a box of stationary just for communicating with him. My last letter to him was to answer some questions he had for me. This week, I was hoping to get a letter from him. I was hoping that maybe he had thought of something to share or maybe there would be another invite to a round table meeting or historical get together.  Little did I know my letter from January 29th would be my last. Part of me still hopes that Monday there may be something in the mailbox for me...but I have a feeling it's unlikely...but boy do I still wish.

We had never met in person yet keeping in touch through writing one another we became friends. There was something about the tone and time he spent on his letters that turned us being strangers into friends... Last summer I hadn't written him back after everything with Aaron and I felt horrible. I wrote him one day and from that point on when he would send a letter, he would ask how Aaron was improving, and even in his last letter to me he asked how the cold was affecting him.  He would also crack jokes here and there that always made me chuckle. 

Never in a million years would I have thought I would be so heart broken over a person I never met. But it happened...proving that the art of writing is of value, and his letters-a lasting treasure  I'll always have. 

xo

Danielle