The black-rimmed ivory stationery sat blank upon his desk. Samuel Morton was having a very hard time deciding exactly what to write. Such a special person deserved a carefully worded acknowledgment of her kindness.
He pulled out a yellow legal pad to make a first draft of his letter. With a fine-tipped black pen he wrote.
Dear Ms. Blake,
First of all, I want to thank you from the depths of my heart for the kindness that you showed to my Sarah. Every time she received a letter from you, her spirits soared. There was so little for Sarah to be happy about in these last difficult months and the memories of those smiles on my daughter’s sweet face as she read and reread your notes are ones that I will always treasure. I am so grateful that you provided her with some relief from the agony she was forced to endure.
I try to comfort myself with the hope that Sarah is at peace now, is not suffering anymore. But I am selfish. I wish that I still had her with me, sick or not. I try not to think of what life will be like without her. I cannot fathom it.
The flowers you sent to our home were beautiful. I am pressing them, keeping them with your letters that Sarah saved. I fear that I will be holding on to everything that was Sarah’s for far too long. I cannot give her up.
That was enough, he thought as he reread what he had written. Eliza Blake would think he was a nut if he poured out any more of his aching feelings.
Samuel carefully copied his words onto the heavy bonded paper.