When my parents died, some old paperwork was handed down to me. Among the papers was a love letter that had been written to my maternal grandmother Vera on October 12, 1913, when she was 25. That’s the year my grandparents were married.

But the letter was from a gentleman named Frank who was not my grandfather.

By the time we found the letter, there wasn’t anyone left around who could shed any light on the relationship between Vera and Frank. There was no return address on the envelope, so I don’t even know Frank’s last name.

It seems that Grandmother had gently broken it off with Frank. The letter, handwritten in pencil in beautiful cursive, was a declaration of his love for her. And between the lines, you will find his forgiveness for her in not choosing him.

Here it is.

My beloved Darling, In compliance with your kind request during our recent conversation, I devote myself to the task of shaping my thoughts into a farewell communication to you. But remember, dear heart, that I allude not to writing to you as a task on account of the penmanship involved, but because of the many tender memories which writing awakens – memories of you and days gone by which I shall cherish as long as life shall last.

True it is that our tryst of last Tuesday night has materially aided in reviving my optimistic attitude toward life, but not to the extent that the joyous anticipation of someday calling you all my own used to revive it.

Ah, Vera! I must tell you that my entire being seems to revolt against the paths which you have deemed it best for us to follow—paths that lie so far apart that it sometimes seems hard to realize that the same sun, moon, and stars illuminate both.

Perhaps after all, darling, you too are wishing that we were together again. Probably deep in the secret chambers of your heart, there lingers a fervid hope that God, in His own good time, will break down the barriers which hold us asunder, and that we may yet realize mutual dreams of happiness by linking our lives together as one. What, if we both sincerely love each other, as we have so often avowed, could be a more natural culmination to our little romance?

Of course, it may amount, in the end, to no more than a dream—this desire of our hearts for union in wedlock. But if it is a dream, my love, then I am content to dream on until Eternity dawns upon the barren desert of my life and draws the curtain of Death between a body that has felt the thrills of true love’s dreams and a soul with no higher ambition in life than to render your happiness secure. Farewell, my dearest loved one, Farewell.       Yours forever, Frank to Vera

Well, they don’t write them like that anymore, do they?

Frank, I don’t know who you were, but thank you for loving my grandmother. You were a gentleman with an expansive soul. I hope you went on to find someone else who swept you off your feet and that you had an amazing family and life.

We don’t need to wait for Valentine’s Day to remember that it’s important to tell the people in our lives that we love them. Say it like you mean it, not as an afterthought. Every day.

To my readers: Do you know a grandparent’s love story that you will share?