Love Letters*

*True story of Al Zimbler’s life as it appears in his seventh short story humor book BEDTIME STORIES FOR NIGHTTIME LOVERS

Who writes love letters? As far as I can tell it always has been soldiers writing back home to their wives or girlfriends. It is possible to surf the net and find a site called “Civil War Love Letters” and read letters sent to and from soldiers and their beloved during the years of the Civil War.

Now instead of letters and because of technology it is possible to text messages of affection and love and happiness and loneliness and sadness through the use of electronic equipment. I am sure that so called “Dear John” messages are also being sent.

I had previously written a short story about going through my condo to discover the oldest items still remaining in my possession. I mentioned a pet rock that my older daughter had presented to me in 1954 that is still in my office as well as a pair of baseball pants that I used to wear in 1948 when I played 16-inch softball in Chicago, and of course a tie my wife once knitted for me and is still hanging on the tie rack since the length when wearing extends down to my pants’ zipper.

I mentioned to my wife about these three things and she laughed and said, “Have you forgotten the letters you sent me when you were in service?” I then laughed and said that I had not forgotten about them but had not remembered about them either when I wrote the previous story about old things still in the condo.

Now if I recall, those letters were more of being unhappy because of not being with her than expressing my love for her as I had only known her a very short period before I went into the Army Air Force in August of 1943.

(Correction by my wife: Eventually I wrote her every day, and on Sundays I wrote her love letters. She only kept the love letters.)

Now I told her to take out the large wrapped package of letters that were in her bottom dresser drawer in our bedroom. I had sent these letters over two and one-half-years while I was in service. I never had to go overseas, and during these two and one-half years I managed a few furloughs and got home often and really got to know her. I decided I wanted her to be my wife, if and when she would accept and after I got out of the service.

Her first remark to me when opening up the letter on top was that my handwriting then was so much better. The letter contained a poem that I had written to her:

Do not become a hermit, dear

While you are far away

Just have a lot of fun, dear

Slip out each night and play

Have the boys around, dear

They too must have their fling

Be sure to treat them kind, dear

Laugh and dance and sing

Do everything you will, dear

Pet and flirt and park

With Harry, Ralph, and Jack, dear

Have fun after dark

The years are all too few, dear

Your chasing round to check

But should I find you do, dear

I’ll break your goddamn neck

Not exactly a love poem.