Week 3 Response


It took you thirty-seven years, but you finally did it. The last of our children are free. It’s a shame you weren’t alive to see it. But that was always the plan, wasn’t it? I hope you enjoyed having such doting sons. They inherited your talents and your face, but luckily not your troubles. Your daughter Martha has lost everything and so have the rest of the Hemingses, but our little family is saved. Why is that where you drew the line? You saved them at the expense of everyone else. My family tried to purchase the little ones in the hope that we could keep track of each other, but it was impossible to save everyone.
I have so many questions, but I never could ask. I couldn’t risk falling out of favor. Even though I built my life around you and turned my back on the freedom France promised, I was always at your mercy. I was betting my life and my children’s that you would be a man of your word. I’m glad I was right, but it shouldn’t have been this way. I was with you for almost 40 years. I’m the one that dressed you for your funeral. This letter will be tucked into your jacket pocket the same way you’d store all your papers and it will be the one you carry with you to the grave. Maybe when I get there you can finally answer my questions. 
This is one question I always wanted to ask you, but I didn’t know how you’d react. I guess now is as good a time as any. Did I look like Martha? Is that why you consented to break the promise you made to her on her deathbed that you’d never take another wife, if not in letter then in spirit? You were married to her for 10 years. Our relationship was almost four times that. By the end, don’t you think I would’ve stayed with you if you’d freed me? You’ll never know, because you weren’t willing to take the same kind of risk you forced me to. Maybe I did love you. Maybe I didn’t. I haven’t decided yet. But it was never really my choice, was it?

May you Rest in Peace,
Sally

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