* * * It was just four weeks yesterday since our darling died, and we went to the Mausoleum. I felt the whole weight of my sorrow, and the terrible shock doubly again. But the precious child does not—that is a comfort. He is happy and at rest, whilst we grieve and mourn. Ernie always prays for Frittie, and talks to me of him when we walk together.
Aunt Marie arrived at two on Monday, and a few hours later came to see me, and was so sympathizing, motherly, and loving; it touched me much. At such moments she is peculiarly soft and womanly, and she loves her own children so tenderly. She cried much, and told me of the sad death of her eldest girl, who was seven, and of the terrible, irreparable loss her eldest son was to her. She has such a religious, truly resigned way of looking at great sorrows such as these. In the room I am now living in Aunt Marie had seen Frittie in his bath two years ago, and she remembered all about him. She is coming to “Sunshine’s” toilet this evening; it always amuses her, and she is very fond of the children.
Seeheim, July 9th.
* * * There are days which seem harder than others, and when I feel very heartsick, prayer and quiet and solitude do me good.
I hear Affie comes on Thursday night. This evening the Emperor arrives. Poor Marie[118] is very happy, and so quiet. * * * How I feel for the parents, this only daughter (a character of Hingebung [perfect devotion] to those she loves), the last child entirely at home, as the parents are so much away that the two youngest, on account of their studies, no more travel about.
Seeheim, July 26th.
* * * I am glad that you have a little colored picture of my darling. I feel lower and sadder than ever, and miss him so much, so continually. There is such a gap between Ernie and Sunny, and the two boys were such a pretty pair, and were become such companions. Having so many girls, I was so proud of our two boys! The pleasure did not last long, but he is mine more than ever now. He seems near me always, and I carry his precious image in my heart everywhere. That can never fade or die!
Seeheim, August 2d.
Many thanks for your dear letter! I am feeling so low and weak to-day that kind words are doubly soothing. You feel so with me, when you understand how long and deep my grief must be. And does one not grow to love one’s grief, as having become part of the being one loved—as if through this one could still pay a tribute of love to them, to make up for the terrible loss, and missing of not being able to do any thing for the beloved one any more?[119] I am so much with my children, and am so accustomed to care for them and their wants daily, that I miss not having Frittie, the object of our greatest care, far more than words can describe; and in the quiet of our every-day life, where we have only the children around us, it is doubly and trebly felt, and is a sorrow that has entered into the very heart of our existence.
May the hour of trial and grief bring its blessing with it, and not have come in vain! The day passes so quickly, when one can do good and make others happy, and one leaves always so much undone. I feel more than ever, one should put nothing off; and children grow up so quickly and leave one, and I would long that mine should take nothing but the recollection of love and happiness from their home with them into the world’s fight, knowing that they have there always a safe harbor, and open arms to comfort and encourage them when they are in trouble. I do hope that this may become the case, though the lesson for parents is so difficult, being continually giving, without always finding the return.