My Grandpa has made me realize that I’ve never been properly courted by a suitor, particularly not by someone sending me good old fashioned love letters. We have really lost something with the move to digital methods of communication over that of paper and pen. Not only are the words beautiful, but the penmanship is magnificent. I remember being told that my Grandpa was born left handed, but had it smacked out of him with a ruler when he started school. As a fellow leftie I was grateful the days of ruler rapping on knuckles was a thing of the past and I was able to learn to write with my left hand. His writing though was impressively neat and clear and the ups and downs of the pen quite attractive to look at while reading.

I’m reading these letters, realizing that they are dated 10-11 years before my mom was born, a couple of years before my grandparents were married, while they were getting to know each other. In late 1929 to early 1930, there was a period of a few months where my Grandma accompanied her mother to Ontario to visit their family out there, and it seems this was in the early stages my Grandpa courting my Grandma. Hence the letters.

My Grandpa talks of the moon, of the chinook winds blowing, of the creek, and ties it all to her – to my Grandma – and how he feels about her.

Why don’t we do this anymore? They’re beautiful and moving and I feel so honoured to have a little peek into their private garden where their love was growing.

And while there’s talk of cows, it’s not only cows. It’s about horses (yay) and which one he thinks she would like (like me one of the best ways to get to Grandma’s heart was through horses it seems). It’s about the people they both know and what they’re up to. It’s about any gossip she should know. Mostly though his talk was about how much he missed her and how he was looking forward to her being back home.

They are so romantic and sweet and I feel very blessed to have read them. I know life for both of them was also full of challenges. Both world wars, the depression of the 1930s (while they were newly married and having babies), the ups and downs of ranching, the impact polio had on their family, and just the regular stresses of life. And yet, here in the midst of it are these moments of tenderness.

It’s beautiful ❤️