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#1726: Willa Cather to Zoë Akins, January 3, 1946

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⬩W⬩S⬩C⬩ My dear Zoeë1:

You3 have not heard from me for a long while. In the middle of this past summer my brother Roscoe4 died at his home in Colusa, California5. He died in his sleep; he death was the result of a heart lesion which occurred in 1941, when I went to California6 to see him—with my right hand7 tied up in Doctor Ober's8 brace. We had a long happy visit together at that time. Since then he had been fairly well, and able to carry on his business as President of the First Savings Bank of Colusa.

Since the shock and sorrow of my brother's death, I have been ill and lifeless. I seem to be only half of myself. For many years I spent all my summer vacations9 with him and his wife10 on his ranch in Wyoming11.; and making camping trips with them into the Wind River Mountains. I was working in New York2, but the most real and interesting part of my life through all those years, I spent in the West with my brother12. He mad many short trips to New York in the winter, so that we could be together for a few days. I think, in all the time we have lived apart, a fortnight seldom went went by without an exchange of letters. Two lines from him, jolly and gay, reached me after the telegram which told me of his death.

I am writing all this simply because I feel that this has made a great change not only in my life but in me, and I want a few, a very few, of my old friends to know it.

I came home from Maine13 as soon as I could manage it, but I have been completely busy—answering letters from old friends in the Northwest and Southwest who knew me and my brother together.

Roscoe and I spent many happy days at the Sheridan Inn. The peach blossoms you sent me have made my sitting room spring like through these days of cold and storm.

Affectionately

My hurt hand has gone bad again—so excuse type.

Mrs. Hugo Rumbold1 324 South Ardmore Avenue Los Angeles14 California NEW YORK, N.Y.2 JAN 5 1946 12 PM FROM CATHER 570 PARK AVE.,NEW YORK CITY2 SAN DIEGO, CALIF15 JAN 5 1948 630 AM Tell the girl to come in. I will let her go home now as it is late & I am tired