This is a letter that my father's father wrote to me the day after I was born. He died before I ever met him (so did my mother's mother, the only other grandparent alive when I was born) so this letter and some photos are pretty much all I have.
Reading this makes me wish I had known him. I mean, if I had my father wrapped around my little finger my whole life, think what I could've done with this guy--especially as his only grandaughter. (That's a joke. . .sort of.) I'm named after my Grandma Dorrit, who was his wife, and who he's referring to in here. This makes it pretty clear where I got my psychotic handwriting.