Why Bloggers Blog: Part III-C

A 20th Century Example of
Writing Words that Last by way of a Letter

I had the honor of visiting briefly with President George Herbert Walker Bush (41st POTUS and father of 43rd) after a fundraising event in October of 1999. I’d brought with me a copy of All the Best, his memoirs in letters. His son had already signed it a month before and the father was happy to grace the fly leaf with his own brief note and autograph.

If you have ever seen the elder Bush talk of his children, you know there is a deep affection that quickly finds its way to his tearful eyes. That happened in our brief conversation. Regardless of any other feelings some may have about these two men and the times through which they met the challenges of their presidencies, I will forever feel that they are the most tenderhearted leaders I have ever looked in the eyes, and I believe time will bear this out.
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In the spirit of civility and the respect due to letters of this nature, I invite us to set aside current public opinion and think back more than fifty years to when our current President Bush was six years old, the year his little sister (nearly four) Robin died of leukemia. In the tender years to follow, he and his brothers watched their parents work through the grief of losing their daughter.

On page 81-82 of that historic collection of letters, All the Best, there is a letter the elder Bush wrote to his mother one evening in lieu of visiting his daughter's grave. I found no copy of the text on the internet, so I’ve presented it here as Part III-C, since it is a modern example of the vulnerable eloquence discussed in Part III-B. [This was written in 1958, years before he held any political office.]

Dear Mum,

I’ve jotted down some words about a subject dear to your heart and mine….I sometimes wonder whether it is fair to the boys…to “fly high” the portrait of Robin that I love so much…every time I sit at our table with just our candlelight, I can’t help put glance at this picture you gave us and enjoy a renewed physical sensation of closeness to a loved one.

This letter… is kind of a confessional… between you and me….
There is about our house a need….We need some starched crisp frocks to go with the torn-kneed blue jeans and helmets. We need some soft blond hair to off-set those crew cuts. We need a doll house to stand firm against our forts and rackets and thousand baseball cards…. We need a legitimate Christmas angel—one who doesn’t’ have cuffs beneath the dress.
We need someone who’s afraid of frogs.
We need someone to cry when I get mad—not argue.
We need a little one who can kiss without leaving...jam or gum.
We need a girl.
We had one once—she’d fight and cry and play and make her way just like the rest.
But there was about her a certain softness.
She was patient—her hugs just a little less wiggly….
She’d stand beside our bed till I felt her there. Silently and comfortable, she’d put those fragrant locks against my chest and fall asleep.
Her peace made me feel strong, and so very important.
[Her saying] “My Daddy” had a caress, a certain ownership which touched a slightly different spot than the “Hi Dad” [of the boys] I love so much.
But she is still with us. We need her and yet we have her.
We can’t touch her, and yet we can feel her.
We hope she’ll stay in our house for a long, long time.”

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Love, Pop... [a nick name he used in his letters to his parents]

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Thirty years later he was sworn in as President and attempted to cast a vision for "a kinder, gentler America." Detractors mocked it at the time, but perhaps he was referring the kindness so evident in this letter and to the civility that we've been talking about in these posts. Part IV covers some of the gathered input from comments in this series as well as some remaining thoughts on Why Bloggers Blog. [It may even be followed by a Part V prompted by a comment below.]

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[George H.W. Bush speaks at Ronald Reagan's funeral.]

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Note: Based on last week's hint about this post, some of you may have thought it would be a letter from President Ronald Reagan. He was an avid letter writer--especially prolific were his notes to his wife. She later compiled in this book. Because of his Alzheimer disease, Ronald Reagan is probably best known for this letter, which closed with "I now begin the journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life. I know that for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead." I used those images and farewell letter in a poem entitled A Mourning in America .