LOVE LETTERS PROJECT - #1 (Video & Transcript)

This is one of the first love letters I narrated. It is written and narrated by me (Renee).

I was surprised to see there has been a recent surge of interest in handwritten letters. It is a lost art that I have begun reviving for my own family and friends.

These Love Letters are an ongoing project to both celebrate handwritten letters, as well as, allow me to showcase my writing, narration and interest in this medium.

This particular letter – as most of them are -was inspired by the many war time letters sent by the ladies missing their men during WWII.

Below is the video and transcript I’ve created for this Love Letter. It includes Sound FX.

TRANSCRIPT #2 – The Love Letters Project

My Dearest Love,

I am writing you at the kitchen table just after supper. The lamps are lit early now, and I’ve drawn the curtains the way we’re meant to, though it still feels strange to keep the light hidden.

The fields are quiet tonight, and the barn is settled, and in that stillness I find myself missing you more than ever.

So much has changed since the day you left. It feels like a lifetime ago that we stood together, believing we still had time.

I think of that moment often, your hand in mine, the way you smiled when you said my name.

The farm keeps me busy, as you’d expect. I rise at dawn to help with the chores.

Our best cow has finally stopped kicking over the bucket when I milk her and the dark Clydesdale, the one you like so much, came up mysteriously lame the other day.

I’ve been tending to the wound, but none of us can decipher how he obtained it.

Overall, we’re making do with less. Less sugar. Less meat. But I remind myself that every sacrifice here helps you there.

Even so, I’d trade all the careful saving in the world just to hear your boots on the porch again.

Everyone asks about you. Letters are passed around like treasures, and when yours comes, I read it at least three times before I ever put it away.

I carry it with me during the day, tucked safely in my pocket as though it were something alive.

Knowing you took the time to write steadies me more than you can imagine. I worry for you, though I try not to let it show.

The newspapers are full of names and places that feel far too close. Still, I believe in you. I believe in your strength. I believe that love, the kind we share, is something even this war cannot touch.

A part of me keeps a sliver of hope toward the future. I imagine us sharing meals, dancing at the town hall, and the simple happiness of waking beside you.

These thoughts are my comfort at night. When I say my prayers, I always end them the same way.

That you will come home to me safe, and that this waiting will one day be just a memory, we tell our grandchildren.

Until that day, know that you are loved beyond measure.

You are my heart, my hope, and my brave soldier.