27 January 1945
After working almost constantly all day on the type-writer, I take pen in hand (as our stilted ancestors used to say) to let you know what gives with your ever-lovin' hubby—
Your V-mail of 12 Jan. arrived this afternoon. It contained the great news that Syd is back in the States, and would be home in a very few days. I can just picture how thrilled you must all be!) I earnestly hope that he’ll be home for good in a few months. Please tell him how glad I am for him. My love to Uncle Nish, Tante Bosh, Bebe and Sylvia, and Miriam.
The weather continues very cold, and we've had quite a lot of snow (for this neck of the woods). I read in the “Stars & Stripes" that you at home are having a severe winter, too. Hope it didn’t inconvenience you too much, honey.
Had a funny dream last night—Dreamed I received a picture of Adele showing her pointing at her outstretched right foot, as if to say - "See, Daddy, how straight it is!” I haven't been concerned lately for the punkin's legs - (not since Dr. Lefkoe said there was nothing to worry about)—but I guess it has been preying overtime on my subconscious mind.
The news on the Russian front gets better daily, and I'm hoping it's a harbinger of better things to come. Every time I feel discouraged or blue I consider how little more it might take to bring about the final and utter defeat of Germany, and I am filled with new hope. Call me a fool if you like, Chippie, but I can’t help feeling that I'll be seeing you, if only for a while, sometime during this summer or fall. Call it wishful thinking—an unfounded hunch—or what you will. That is what I feel, though ensuing events may prove my hopes groundless.
I'm still waiting to hear how you fared on your trip to New York, baby, but I guess I'll have to sweat it out another few days.
And now I’m going to the movies to see "Take it Big”. So long for now, Sweet. My best love to our adored punkin. Love to all. I miss you so, my Evie—