On this day, a post about the hope to come as we approach the start of a new year seems appropriate. But I’ve chosen instead to write about a hope that was felt over 70 years ago.
One of my treasured possessions is a letter that my Grandfather wrote to my Grandmother in early December 1945. The war had ended just a few months prior and he was hopeful of his return home to his new bride. The letter is filled with love, longing, and anticipation of their future together. He missed her terribly.
I can only imagine that hope carried him through the war. The hope of his return. The hope of a new world after war. The hope that love conquers hate.
My Grandfather came home from the war and my Grandparents went on to live a happy life. They had two sons and eventually five grandchildren. I am their oldest grandchild.
I miss them terribly and I am hopeful that one day we will be reunited!