My tears were washed away by chlorinated water...

as I bobbed up and down in the pool determined to rid myself of the lifebuoy that seems to have taken up residence around my girth. 

I couldn't get out of my mind the love letter I had discovered in the attic yesterday.

Sent in October 1911 from my grandfather (the wood carving bank manager mentioned in an earlier post) 

to my grandmother

on the eve of their wedding.

The sentiments and extremely proper passion contained in the letter sorely tugged at my heart-strings.

The book of poems by Tennyson explains without a word being spoken, of my father's love of poetry, mine too. 
  

The ground was being prepared, the seed was being sown and here we are 100 (yes one hundred) years later reaping the rewards.
And me their only hoodlum grandaughter at 63 going on 13 has to beg the question...

Seeing me now...
"Would they have thought it worth it?"

xxxx