The Smile That Won’t Come Off

Imagine a divorced dad dealing with an ex-wife who would rather not have him near his only child. My grandma was this child. There are so many details I’ll never know because no one is still alive to ask. This much I do know: my great grandfather Albert wasn’t a perfect husband, but he loved his daughter Grace.

When my grandparent's old cabin was recently emptied, a box of old postcards was found. My great grandfather had written them all to his mother. He started sending the cards right after his divorce in 1910. The front of the postcard featured pictures of his delightful daughter Grace. 

In neat cursive he shared with his mother how well Grace was doing—and he especially wanted her to notice Grace’s smile. On many of the cards he'd written that Grace had “The smile that won’t come off.”  He was assuring his mother that she enjoyed being with him and was happy.

There were at least 50 of these postcards with those smiles that won’t come off.  During her visits, Grace must have had to spend time where her father worked as an accountant —many of the photos showed a young Grace pretending to answer a phone or work behind a huge desk.

 I loved seeing her smile. It’s the same one I remember seeing on her much older face.

As I got to the final cards, the year was 1918. Albert sent a photo with the employees of his company, and on the back, he’d written, "taken during the flu." 

The correspondence with his mother abruptly ended with this final photo. I wonder if she died because of the pandemic. But all the postcards he’d carefully written over those eight years had been bundled together and given to Grace. 

Grace kept "the smile that won’t come off" throughout her life. She also kept the postcards too. And now I will keep them safe and cherish the handwritten notes that revealed a father’s love for his daughter.

It also reminds me that taking time to write notes is something that can last even longer than a lifetime.