How many things are there in life that we just don’t talk about? Is it the pain that keeps us from talking about love or death? In this case it’s obvious that the memories are clear, but it’s only in these letters that Jim allows us a look into his heart to see the love and respect he had for his step-father. Jim always gave me the impression that life with Franklin Corser was difficult and not a place to go in general discussion. Talk about cars, camping, or a Guard weekend was much more important. Anything but stories about Dad.
Jim revealed many more emotions to his typewriter than he ever did directly to me. Even after writing these letters, we never really talked about what he had written. We shared how important and memorable they were, but discussing things like his love for his father just didn’t enter into the conversation. Maybe it’s just me, but it feels easier to expose my own emotions to this blog, just as Jim did in this letter.
It was September 1949 and I was working nights at the Millers Falls Paper Mill. I was staying at the lake cottage with Dad and Flora. This wasn’t an ideal arrangement, the cabin was small, the walls were thin and it is always difficult to adjust to a routine of working nights and trying to sleep days. For some time my mother and I had been …