“He is most blessed who loves the most, the freest who is most enslaved by love.”
― Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote

The night before Dad passed away, I slid his copy of Don Quixote off the shelf and read a bit. It was hard to concentrate, but I knew it was one of his favorites and hoped we could still connect, even though he appeared to be in a deep sleep.

Around midnight, Gary shooed me off to bed. As I walked down the dark hallway toward the staircase, a large piece of artwork caught my eye. It was a familiar piece, by Israeli artist Nissan Engel, which my parents added to their collection back in the 1960s.

I knew when the time came, I would take home both the book and the artwork.

Not all the artwork we shipped home was in frames. Several steamer trunks are packed with Mom’s poetry and correspondence. And it appears Dad tucked away the occasional keepsake as well.

The envelope carries the postmark February 19, 1963. It’s addressed to Dad in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. Mom had taken us to New Haven for a visit with her parents. Apparently, Grandma dragged out her typewriter for Harry to compose a letter to our father:

And here is that promised portrait:

I’m not sure which is more impressive – those pearly whites or that snazzy shirt! Makes me wonder if Harry was chewing on a stick of Fruit Stripe Gum while creating his artwork.

There’s something very touching about our father saving such a sweet letter. The keepsake traveled with him from house to house for the next 58 years. But now Dad is with his beloved Joanie again as they begin their next adventure together.

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