September 14, 2013

"You ask: How do I live?"

After I posted this photo of my paternal Grandmother's sister, Elena (the actress), I found an envelope of letters and photos Elena had sent to Tatjana in the late 1950s and 1960s.

Earlier I had wondered whether Elena ever married or had a family. This photo—and what Elena wrote on the back of it—provides more information:


January 7, 1960

My own Tanjusha, I want to send you my own portrait as well, but I haven’t had my photo taken in a long time.

I am sending you a photo of me and my husband taken six months before his death. I was trying to restore his health—

*     *     *     *     *
I so wanted my beloved to live…
But death is implacable, he is in the grave
And for the widow there is inconsolable grief…

Why did this happen?  Why?
For I loved my husband very dearly.

I look at his portrait. It is deaf and dumb,
I am left alone—a broken-off branch.

(This is my own poem.)

*     *     *     *     *

You ask: How do I live? It is already the third year since I buried my husband, but I am still grieving and sad.

I am alone; my son is working in the north. This increases my melancholy and grief—I describe my feelings in poetry.

I spent the summer in a suburb of Leningrad at a dacha. My son was with me for a month and a half, and then I was living there alone. Now I am again living in the city apartment. In January my son will come to see me again. As for my health, I can’t complain. I sleep well and have a good appetite. I receive a good pension, and in addition my son helps me.

I kiss you warmly, my dear. I often remember you as you were when we were growing up. I remember. I love you. Deeply loving you. 

Ljalja
 
Thanks to my dear friend D for translating the text from Russian to English.
 

3 comments:

edutcher said...

Fascinating story.

One sister escaped, one stayed

Irene said...

There were six children; Tatjana was the only one who got out.

edutcher said...

Lucky lady, although I'm sure there were plenty of times it seemed otherwise.