March 6th, 1863.—It is hard to even think, because I want to see Grandpa so bad. We were going to him in the summer and now I will never see him again. Father says I will see him in that beautiful Heaven, which he loved to talk of but it seems so far away. Grandma has sent me a lock of his lovely snow-white hair, but there is no comfort in that, for it only makes me long the more to put my arms about his neck and kiss the soft thick hair which glistened like silver.
His will has been read and he has left Uncle Kinchen and Aunt Amy in Mother’s care for the remainder of their lives; all their children were given to Mother, so they will not be separated from their family. Father has sent money to pay their way down and Uncle Kinchen is such a good traveler, they will get on all right.
Grandpa was buried in the cemetery at Enfield. He had stated in his will that he must be brought to Florida and buried beside Grandmother in our “God’s Acre,” but when he was dying he told them not to try to take his body back to Florida, the whole country is in such an upset condition on account of the war and he did not know what complications might arise. I wish he could have been brought here so we could take him flowers every day. I know what I can do, I can bear in remembrance the many talks we have had and try to be just what he wanted me to be.
