February 2, 1954.
My Dear Nate,
Iām sorry to hear that things arenāt going well in London. We wish that you were here with us every day, but we understand why you had to stay. Itās one of the many reasons why I love and respect you. Gabriel isnāt walking yet but heās crawling and getting into things like crazy. Heās good, heās settling in better than I had hoped. He really struggled the first few nights. He misses you. We all do. I wish that we could be there to help you, I know that Cash wishes he could help you.
Oh no. Iām sorry to hear that...is she alright? Iām assuming that heās let you see her if you are looking for words of comfort. I wish that I could help more. Iām sure that part of her fear is being in the hands of your uncle...but i think just being there always helped me. And making sure that she knows that you care (since you clearly do) is always a good start. Iām sorry that I canāt be more help with this. If I were there, I could try to talk to her and make her realize what having children is like. Itās the most wonderful experience of my life. Gabriel is my everything, and I wouldnāt have it any other way. You could try that with her? Iām relieved to hear that sheās alright. It sounds like you care about this woman.
Love,
Dahlia
P.S. Cash says thank you, he keeps complaining about American whiskey. Apparently itās different. Who knew.



















