Dear Cyndy,

Thank you for your thoughtful and sympathizing letter. I repeat
myself when I write that I am wary of sounding or calibrating
my emotions, but I can testify that I do not feel sad or depressed,
that I am working productively, that if I don't sleep enough, it's
because I'm unable to shut down the engine of intellect. I'm at
peace with close family members and those who are remote, and I
feel no loneliness at all. I've memorized and taken to heart
Shakespeare's sonnet (#71) No longer mourn for me when I am dead ...
In my mind I hear Margaret saying and I repeat to myself ad lib: 
"Nay, if you read this line, remember not the hand that writ it, 
for I love you so, that I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
if thinking on me then should make you woe ..."

As I may have mentioned, I've been spending substantial time writing
sonnet-like poems of my own, so far there are twenty, all of them
in German, which are accessible to you at
http://home.earthlink.net/~ej4meyer/20151120_Sonnets01.pdf
No, they're not translatable. Hypothetically they could be rewritten
in English. I don't suggest it as a useful investment of your time 
and energy, but if you asked me to I would transliterate for you 
word for word, and if you memorized and remembered, you would learn 
something about me and you would learn some German. 

As of this evening there are 20 poems, 17 in strict Elizabethan
Sonnet form, which recount my courtship with Margaret - and the
intermittent abeyance of that courtship beginning on the afternoon 
of May 10, 1946, when I first saw her at the Bach Festival in 
Bethlehem PA to her first visit to Konnarock in June 1949. There
are obviously many more episodes in my life susceptible to being
sonnetized, including the summer of 1939. I find the composition
of these poems a compelling experience, inasmuch as they make
accessible to the emotions replicas of past experience otherwise
subjectively inaccessible. At this juncture, there is so much in
my past life demanding to be recognized, that I can foresee no 
end to my dabbling in poetry, - but that may change.

The most immediate distraction to be disposed of is the appeal of
the most recent Superior Court decision against me, which was 
finally handed down - after a hearing two months ago - only
on Nov. 30. I learned of the fact of the denial of my motion
for judgment on the pleadings yesterday from the Court's Internet
web site; the written opinion will come in the mail in a day or two. 
I'll try to juggle the poetry and the legal composition 
simultaneously; but I may not be successful.

And with that, I've run out of words, except to send you and Ned
my very best wishes. Of course, you must feel free to show him
my letters, if you consider them worthwhile. Writing for
publication is in my blood.

Love - (has it come to that?) Jochen