Mom's Memory Box, Part 2

• 
  
  
  
  
  I was just wondering what I had around here to write about. I figured I was just about out of things except the settling of Cherokee, Iowa, where I was born and raised.
  
  
  
  I got out mom’s memory box again and started going through it. I had some letters that my uncle wrote to my mother when he was in the service. I got them all together to mail to my cousin. As I was sorting them out, I found a box that was hand tooled from Puerto Rico that was full of hand embroidered handkerchiefs. He had sent these to my grandmother. I will send these to my cousin in a separate package.
  
  
  
  As I was sorting through and of course, reading all these letters I was reading them to Fran and I told him what impeccable spelling he had. As I said that my spell check just fixed mine. These letters spoke of missing his mother’s food, the farm and the seasons. He said he was too hot there. He described boot camp to a “T” and then in the next breath he made fun of new recruits. He learned how to run wire. It sounded like phone or electric wire that he was learning how to do. He was in the signal corp. I believe this pin was on his lapel.
  
  
  
  The letters were of a twenty five year old farm boy that so missed his family. I found a letter from my grandfather to my uncle. It was a half sheet of narrow tablet paper. He even told my uncle that he tore it in two so he didn’t have to write so much! And further more he was only doing it because my grandmother had made a fuss about it. My grandfather was very stern, seldom smiled and showed little to no emotion. Wouldn’t that be so very difficult to know if you were missed and loved. I think it might be impossible.