I really, really like this letter, because it is such a depressing letter.
My father refused to serve in the army. In 1952 it was forbidden to refuse to serve in the army. That’s why my father had to serve in a camp for guys that refused to serve in the army. He had to work in the fields. He had to cut open the earth and carry smudge to another field. At July 31, 1952, he wrote this letter to my mother. They weren’t married yet.
Vledder, July 31 1952
Darling,
Still dirty and smudged by the land, I don’t feel like washing myself. I sit here to write this final letter.
What should I do now? I am too worn-out anyway. How can I gather the strength together to hold myself back from calling you?
What is going on in Amsterdam? Why, goddamned, am I so far away from everything?
It is hard you didn’t write me, yet.
Is it so that you think "if he doesn’t write me… well, I won’t either?" Bah…
Or didn’t you even noticed that I didn’t write you?
God, glowing God, I’m so exhausted. What a support you are to me while I rot away here.
Why should I still care?
3 comments:
Daphne, you have such rich family posts (I reeled from the little perfume bottle post awhile back...but for some reason my computer wouldn't let me comment on eblogger until I joined it) I love what you're doing here. This is poignant and says so much more than the words. Like so many of YOUR posts. I'm adding you to my blog log so I don't forget to stop by. Hope that's okay.
That is more than okay, that is heaven on Earth, lady jackson. :)
daphne,
this is so wild. so sad and noble, yet petulant and funny and loving. i wish i'd known him. "smudged by the earth." glorious.
nance
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