Through Any Given Door

2.32 Worrisome Prayers

Aunt Elizabeth and Dad

1957 • San Francisco ~ Letter from Aunt Elizabeth to her brother, my father:
March 13, 1957
Dear Carl:
Just now writing the date, I happened to remember that this is Carleen’s birthday. If it weren’t so late, I would call her. We are having Mass on Wednesday evenings during Lent and with a sermon, it made it rather late.

I received your letter and the wonderful surprise. I am glad to have it but do not want you to send it if it is difficult for you. I have all the correspondence, etc. from the bank but as I remember the amount at the time of the closing your store was $2,100. Since then I received $200 from you in January of last year and now $100. Thank you very much.

I often wonder what would have happened if you had kept the store and tried to get along with it. Do you still miss it a lot?

I was glad to get the news about the children. Carleen told me that Claudia had married but she asked me not to tell you as I think Claudia wanted to do so herself. Anyway, I am glad you know. I worry about all the kids but all I can do is pray for them which I do each day.

I am sorry you cannot go back East this summer. I almost wish I didn’t have to go but since Sister Ann is having her vacation, I feel like I should. I may not go back again for some time.

I hope you get your help situation straightened out and that you will not have to work too hard. Write again soon and thanks a million for the check.

Love,
Elizabeth

Note: Dad borrowed money from his sister to pay off his bankruptcy debts from closing the store in Sonora. It took him a few years, but he paid her back in full. Sister Ann is their sister, a Franciscan Nun and teacher. Back East is Minnesota. I don’t know that any of us thought of it as the midwest…

to be continued…

© 2018. Catherine Sevenau.
All rights reserved.

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Comments

  1. mini kelly says

    And you still keep your sense of humor. Courageous lady.

  2. I have read them all. So good. The thought occurred to me that we were raised by depressed people. They had been through so much you know. The devastating years of the Depression, aptly named , and then the all consuming years of WW2. My Mom was certified Depressed by a Doctor. And I often thought my Dad was also. They were gorgeous both of them. Smart, held good jobs, but divorced early on. Grandparents had it much more together. Raised me.