Letter Never Sent

“Hey Grandpa!” Jane exclaimed as she bounded up the stairs with a smile.

Grandpa stood in the doorway. He smiled softly, his eyes lighting up at the visit of his only granddaughter.

***

Jane had recently moved a couple towns away from her hometown where her grandfather resides, to pursue her college endeavors. The reason for her visit was a school project she was working on, and she had made the trip back home to spend the day with him.

“I want to hear more about your project,” Grandpa started, “But first, I found the old trunk in the attic, the one I mentioned to you over the phone, maybe it’ll help.”

“Thank you, Grandpa, it’s an in depth look into History and how those events have shaped the present day. Then a further look into how we process such significant events in time and how those events shape us personally.”

“Well, that sounds like quite the undertaking,” Grandpa said with a sad smile as he handed her the beautiful trunk. Then with a hint of excitement continued, “Have at it kiddo! Open it up!”

***

Excitedly, Jane opened the small mahogany vintage trunk. She noticed there was a place for a lock but no lock attached. Inside, at the very top was a white handkerchief folded neatly, beneath it a handful of old photos and old coins. Jane immediately reached for the photos.

“Is this your brother Grandpa?” Jane inquired, pointing at the old worn photo.

“Yes,” answered Grandpa softly, “That was my older brother, who I never got to meet. You see it was only he and some of his business buddies that made the voyage that night. Our parents thought him to be too free spirited and blamed his sense of adventure for calling him to ride out into the ocean.”

Grandpa paused.

“They never really got over losing him.” Grandpa paused again, “They had me a few years after the tragedy, but as I grew up, they never really talked about him. I have never seen these photos. I do recognize him from the other photos I have seen though; same excitement for life in his eyes.”

“Who is this grandpa?" Jane asked, "She is very pretty."

Grandpa sat now slowly.

He turned to look out the window at a bird that had landed on the sill.

Jane waited for him to continue.

“She was the love of his life.” Grandpa said quietly.

Jane continued to look through the small trunk. There were other tiny momentous, some shells and some pebbles from the ocean, and a feather.

“Did she perish then too?” Jane asked

“Yes, yes she did.” Grandpa said sadly

“Oh look!” Jane exclaimed! “A Journal!”

Jane quickly started flipping through the pages and as she did a letter fell to the floor. Jane reached to pick it up and realized it had never been opened. She flipped it over and realized it also had never been sent, though it was addressed and had postage attached.

“It’s a letter.” Jane started, “but it hasn’t been opened, may I open it Grandpa?”

Grandpa turned to look at Jane holding a letter from the past in her hand.

He took a deep breath.

“Yes, you should open it." He said, "It’s been 110 years; I think it may be time those words get spoken.”

Carefully Jane opened the old, weathered envelope. She began to read aloud:

April 18th, 1912

My dearest love,

There are no words to describe the pain I feel as I grapple with the loss of you. You, the one I see so deeply when you look into my eyes. You, the one with so much fire in your soul and a magical gentle touch. You, who never got to hear me speak these words of love I feel for you. You. The one I long for. The one I need. You haunt me in my dreams, though I so desperately want you there. You reside in my thoughts, in my heart, in every essence of my soul. I have not slept a night since I heard the news. I keep waiting for you to return to me.

Everyday that passes my soul yearns for you more. My heart longs to be reconnected in your embrace. Oh, how I crave to feel your hand lightly brush on mine. I close my eyes to see you again and feel you next to me. I see you now, looking at me, for what would be the last time. I wonder now, did you know it then? Did you know that moment would be the last? Did you know that fate would take you away from me? And me away from you? Did you memorize our final look into each other’s eyes, as I so clearly see it now?

My last memory of you.

The last memory I have to return to you.

I return to that place in my mind. I have yet to return in person; for I know that I will not find you there. I live a waking nightmare. In dreams I find fleeting solace near the ocean. I dream, but I do not sleep. I do not rest. There is no rest for loss so profound. The pain follows me most when I awake from a hauntingly beautiful dream. For it is in my dreams that you return to me, And I go to you.

April 25th, 1912

The ocean, it calls to me, as my soul calls out for you. When I dream, we are near the ocean. Right before the sun begins to set. You look across at me and our eyes meet at the horizon line. In that moment, it is only you and I, even the ocean moves in silence watching us. You start to walk towards me, you, you my friend and confidant, you, you are reaching out for me now and as I start to walk out towards you, the sky, it quickly darkens, and waves crash around me. I feel like I am drowning. I can no longer see you and I start to yell to you, I then awake, screaming. I do not know if I am screaming out load. I wake up gasping for breath and I, I never stop calling out your name.

In silence.

Aloud.

In dreams.

I cannot escape the love I feel for you.

My beloved, I regret that I did not show up to bid you Bon Voyage that day. I also regret that I…

***********

“Wait!!” Jane screamed as her eyes darted up from the letter” No!” “ No.no.no.no no…” Her eyes filled up with tears as she began to connect the dots…

She paused and took a deep breath pushing the tears back. Her eyes quickly searching for the place in the letter where she had stopped.

***********

… I also regret that I did not confess what I truly feel for you and that I did not show up to listen to you relay just how you feel for me. The reasons of our disagreement do not matter now. All that matters is that my soul will not rest and as your ghost, haunts my dreams; I know that your soul will not find peace. Maybe this night will be the last I have to be without your touch, the last to wake up just to lose you over again. Maybe my dreams will lead me back to you. And we will embrace. Maybe we will dwell on that horizon line, as the sun slowly sets, displaying its wild passionate colors. Maybe this time you will stay. Farwell to you my truest love. I love you endlessly.

***

Jane gasped and touched her hand to her mouth as her eyes once again filled with tears.

Grandpa was also choking back tears as he stared out the window as two birds sat on the sill looking in.

Jane realizing, she was grasping the pages too tightly, released her grasp and placed them gently back into the trunk with the tears now flowing freely down her face. She covered her lips with her hand again as she cried silently for these two lovers.

Finally, Grandpa turned to her. “I remember now,” he sighed, “That trunk was delivered to us when I was a boy and my parents never looked through it. That was when I first learned I’d had an older brother, the authorities had found it some 100 miles away from where she was found at sea. They must have brought it to this address as it was the only one on the envelope.”

Jane sat silently staring out the window. The birds now gone.

“Thank you, Grandpa,” Jane said as she walked over to him and gave him a hug. “Thank you for sharing their story with me. I know exactly what I am going to write for my project now.”