Grandview August 31, 1914
Dear Bess:
You are going to get a piece of a letter this week anyway. I'm not very good at letter writing. You know, the doctors have given Papa only a short time to decide on an operation or the grave. We are still hoping that there is some mistake but I am afraid there isn't much hope. You know he is sixty-three and an operation at that age is nearly always fatal. The X ray showed that the lower entrance to the stomach is almost closed. It has probably been going on for ten or fifteen years. The doctors say that if the operation is successful, he can probably live ten years. So as a last resort I am going to try and persuade him to do it.
Mary and her Santa Fe were exactly on time. They were a very much sunburned bunch. The Ford was not on deck but it is tonight. You know, Aileen got her wires crossed and sent her mother a card saying they would be home Saturday at 5:05. It was necessary to show her the card before she'd believe it. Mary and I got home at ten minutes to seven. I did want to go back to Independence so badly, but Papa wasn't feeling so well and Mamma was almost done up. A great aunt of mine, cousin (third), Vivian and Luella, and Mr. Campbell and Mrs. too were lucky enough to push themselves on her for dinner. I suppose if Luella hadn't been in the church, she'd have given up the ghost right there. It was a very good thing for my Sunday that I got started at ten o'clock instead of eleven. For it could have been stay at home sure enough if that bunch had pulled in before I got away. The great aunt is still here. She's a fine old lady, Grandfather Young's half-sister. She's lost her only son and is trying to forget it. She has a daughter but the son was her support and an old bach so she misses him keenly. I'm very much a favorite of Lee's also.
I wrote the Hon. W. P. Borland this evening and stated the post-office case to him. You ought to see what a grand piece of political guff I can hand out. I didn't ask him to appoint me straight out but asked him to make the appointment that the majority of the patrons of the office wanted.
I can't write you a good letter, Bess, this evening. I am somewhat worried and continually thinking of what I'll do without my pappy. It doesn't seem at all possible to get on without him. It sure was nice of you to call up, and as usual I couldn't think of anything to say over the phone. I guess I can't get in the week. I have to take Papa to town tomorrow and next day and run the farm. But remember I want to come over and sure would if I could.
I hope to see you Sunday but I doubt if I can go picnicking because there's no telling what'll take place between now and then. There is no immediate danger of fatality except in case of the operation, and we may not decide on that for a week.
Please send me a letter as I'll sure appreciate it this week.
Most sincerely, Harry