Nov. 28, 1944
Your letters of Nov, 8 and 10 came through this morning and, naturally I was most happy to receive them. Your letters contained little for me to comment on, except Adele's birthday gift that you mention. So you intend to surprise me, eh! Well, I have an idea of what it may be, but I'm not telling you till I actually know what it is. I only mentioned that it was a month to Adele's birthday, cause I couldn't think of anything else to say at the time.
These are the most recent letters I've had to date and I'm looking forward to receiving them more regularly now.
I called Bob this evening to inquire about Richy and was told that they are throwing a large party this coming Saturday and that we are all invited. Bob says he's the same old Richy.
29 November 1944
It never occurred to me before now to wonder what Adele calls you. Because today is her second birthday, I found myself thinking about it, and thinking about it made me curious. Will you please oblige, Sweet? And what name do you call her by? I picture you using Adele when you are annoyed with her, but what do you call her when her sweetness makes your love for her well big in your heart? Do you indulge in corny appellations like “snookums" or "sweetie pie,” or do you have more original pet names for her? Does she know her own name? If so, how clearly does she pronounce it? And will she say it when someone asks her her name? There are so many things I want to know about her! Please, Chippie, sometimes when you have the time to spare, tell me in the most minute detail you can muster exactly what my daughter is like. Tell me how she looks, what she does and says the first thing in the morning; tell me how she plays, the things that amuse her, and the things that fill her with infant wonderment; tell me how she acts differently towards her Mommy than towards anyone else; tell me what evidences of affection she has shown you; tell me what things, if any, make her shy or embarrassed, and how she looks when she feels that way; tell me how she is bad, and how she is good; tell me what she asks you, and what she tells you; tell me how she greets you when you come home from work, and if you invariably ask her if she was a “good girl today,” and what she says to that; tell me the extent of her understanding, and the scope of her naiveté; tell me of her various subterfuges that she employs to try to get her own way: tell me the things she is afraid of, and the things that give her pleasure; tell me if she is clever with her hands; if she still has that predilection for using her left hand; tell me if her eyes are still that indescribable gray color that they were when I last saw her; tell me if her little legs are in any way abnormal in appearance; finally tell me what pleases you about her and what displeases you; what you love most about her and what you would most like to change. You see, darling, that there is so much about her that I don't know, and that I am deeply desirous of knowing, that you could write volumes on the subject trying to satisfy my curiosity. Will you try, Baby? I'd appreciate it deeply believe me! I can’t help wondering on this, her second birthday, how much longer we will be apart, the three of “us.” My feeling, hunch (call it what you will) is that it can't be very much longer, I think about four or five months more, at the outside. After being so long apart, honey, and because the time does seem to fly, (however inconsistent that may sound to you), I can regard the prospect of seeing you at the end of that time with perfect equanimity. Also, on this anniversary of our punkin’s birth, I am reminded once again of that day, exactly two years ago, when time stood still for me while I restlessly paced the hallways of the Anderson Hospital. I think I remember telling you about this time last year about all the things I felt and thought about then, so there is no need to repeat it here. I think I also told you then how proud and grateful I was, and how I loved you so much more for the grand way you deported yourself as wife, expectant mother and mother. But that last is something that I shall never cease appreciating in you, and that I shall make it a point to acknowledge when our punkin attains to another birthday. Know then, my beloved Ev, that my heart is overflowing this day with gratitude for my daughter’s mother, and love and admiration for my sweetheart, my wife, whom I consider has ever shown herself worthy of all the adoration I am capable of feeling. May God be good to you and our daughter. My prayers are for your continued well-being, my darlings. I live only for the day when I can be with you once again. I am nothing else than
Your loving husband and dad,