He wasn’t afraid of dying, he wrote, but worried about unfinished work.

He wanted the farm to be a place where people felt welcome.

The third was only a few paragraphs long.

You don’t owe anyone the life they pictured for you, Jo.

Not even your father.

Especially not me.

I hope you come home because you want to, never because someone has finally given you permission.

I put the letter down before tears obscured the words.