Many years ago, I replaced the mail slot in the front door of our family home and found a note wedged between the old frame and the door.  It was a note to my little sister Kate, left there a few months before by her boyfriend Bill.  She had known Bill since their high school days and they were inseparable.  They went to summer camps together and then enrolled in the same college to study English Literature.   They both returned home after college and took up teaching jobs in the local school.

All of us thought that they were going to get married.  Months went by.  I got the sense that they were somehow slowly drifting apart.  They saw each other less often, and Bill lost the characteristic bounce in his gait.   Being the overprotective older brother, I asked Kate if there was something wrong with the relationship, but she denied it.  Then, war was declared in the Middle East.  Bill decided to serve and enlisted in the Army.  The impending separation was of great concern to Kate, but she was supportive of him.  One summer morning, he left. 

This is what the note said:

My sweet Kate,

When you read this, I’ll be on my way to the desert fighting a war I don’t believe in.  The only reason I’m heading there is because I can’t bear to see your beautiful face and bubbly charm, all overflowing with love for me when I feel that I have no more love to give.  I don’t have the heart to tell you that I don’t love you anymore, and the fire that burned bright is now gone, extinguished by a force larger than me and larger than us. I tried telling you in person many times, but your enthusiasm and ideas for the future made that impossible.  I don’t want you to write to me because I will not respond. I have nothing to say, no explanations to give.  I want you to forget me and to find a nice guy, get married, have the four children we often talked about.    As for me, I hope I’m here as long as this war lasts, and certainly long enough for you to get over me and move on with your life.  I want nothing but the best for you.

Bill

A few months after he was deployed, we heard that Bill was killed by a roadside bomb.  The funeral in our small town was solemn and touching, much like those all across the country.  Kate was inconsolable, and why wouldn’t she be?  After the funeral, we went home.  Needing some distraction, I decided to replace the mail slot in the front door.  It was then that I found the note.  

I’ve moved several times since and that note has moved with me.  I’ve kept it in a safe place next to my passport, often wondering if I should give it to Kate.  The truth will set you free they say, but when I see my little sister now, happily married, comfortable in her love for her husband and in her love for Bill, secure in her relationships and living life with the ease and confidence that only people living in a warm cocoon of love can, I wonder if she needs to be set free.    

– Chris Pais