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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; his death was the result of a heart lesion which occured in 1941, when I went to California6 to see him - with my right hand7 tied up in Doctor Ober8's 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 of those years, 1914 to
1941 I spent in the West
with my brother12. He made 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 by without an exchange of
letters. Two letters 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 kept busy in answering letters from old friends in the Northwest and Southwest who knew me and my brother together.
Affectionately Willa CatherThank you for the Denver14 candy—it recalls happier days and happier relationships.
Mrs. Bryson Burroughs1 106 E. 81st Street New York 28, N. Y.2 NEW YORK, N.Y.2 JAN 3 1946 1230 PM