The Nurses’ Home, The General Hospital
Birmingham
Feb 16th 1915
My dear Husband-to-be
I have been longing to get to my room to answer your letter, part of which has worried me all day. I hardly know what to say for fear of sounding as though I were excusing myself. I can only say that I did not intend that sentence of mine you quote in the sense you have taken it but in my efforts to express myself forcibly I overdid it. All I wanted to express was what you wished I had said, namely, “for fear you should offer to send me money to help me along”.
I see, now that you have pointed it out how horridly I expressed myself and hope that at some future date I shall be privileged to ask your forgiveness by word as well as to write and ask it now. I am very sorry that I should have given you cause to write as you did today, but at the same time I am glad you did not pass it over. It is so much better for us to be frank with each other.
I told you, dear, that Aunt J had not sent me my allowance before I told you again in the letters of which you write and said how it was inconveniencing me but as I expected it to come by any post it seemed stupid to write and ask you to lend me a few shillings to rub along until it came, although the idea occurred to me to do so.
However I’ll not say any more about it, for it is as difficult to say on paper exactly what one means especially when I write in a hurry as I have been doing lately.
I have arranged my evening today so as to enable me to write at length and see if I can put this disagreement right. Yes, I will consent to the arrangements you suggest of putting by £2 in the Savings Bank – not to be touched except in an emergency - and if it should have to be drawn on I will try and replace the amount taken out at some future date when once more flush of cash.
Don’t think, dear Heart, that I do not appreciate your kind thought, but taking money, even from Mother goes against the grain. I think it comes from having been independent so long. Perhaps if I were younger it would come easier to me.
To turn to a happier topic. Have you heard the good news about Arthur and Mary? Kath speaks of it in a letter to me today thinking I had been told of it. They have hopes that a little child will be given them in September. Isn’t it glorious news? It helped to take the edge off the sorrow I was feeling about what your letter contained. All your people are very pleased, Kath says, and of course Arthur and Mary are very happy about it.
September seems a long time off. I feel quite impatient for it to come. I am so thankful I got to hear of it before I see Mary tomorrow.
Kath sent me some Plasmon biscuits, a bottle of meat juice and some chocolate. Wasn’t it decent of her to send me some tuck?
My letter is most ungrammatical but I am so tired and as I never hear two words of good English spoken all day, I am rapidly forgetting my own language.
Theatre Sister has been so trying with us all today, she simply wears one out mentally, and all her grievances exist in her imagination. The work is hard enough without mole hills being made into mountains. I shall be thankful when I am taken off theatre work, it seems to blunt one’s nature and make one incapable of appreciating the beautiful side of life.
The RSO is going to take the stitches out of my ear tomorrow.
I am awfully sorry the little Mother is ill – Ethel mentioned she had a cold but did not say it was influenza.
The last few days I have been longing to see Mother. Isn’t it strange the strength of the tie between Mother and child, nothing seems to break it. In many ways I miss her dreadfully at times. I long for some human sympathy - and nothing can quite make up for the loss of a Mother’s love. You understand, darling, that I love you better than anyone on earth but our love comes with a different heading altogether. Sometimes I feel I want the sympathy of one of my own sex. There is a nurse here with whom I am very friendly and whose photo I send for you to see so that you may know what she is like but although I am very fond of her she is not a lady by birth and so there cannot be quite that perfect friendship between us because at quite an unexpected moment she does or says something that jars on me.
I love your sisters as my own but you’ll agree with me and understand when I say I cannot absolutely tell them everything. They are so different to me, somehow. Sometimes I feel just a bundle of emotions trying to find an outlet - and when I feel like this everything round me seems like a brick wall which I keep running up against and hurting myself.
Do you think me quite mad, writing like this?
I went to the Early Service this morning and enjoyed the peace and calm of it and oh – how I prayed for strength – strength of mind as well as of body.
I have not been feeling very well lately – the reason is not far to seek. We get very hot in the theatre and when we come out for meals we can feel our clothes drying on us and we catch cold. I seem to get a sort of internal chill every three or four days – nothing serious but all the same you know how low this would make one feel. It is not serious enough to report to Home Sister but I shall be very glad when I can lead a normal life again.
We had a sad case in the Theatre yesterday – an emergency – a beautiful little baby boy of a few months was brought in for interserseption – I spell it as it is pronounced and you must look up the meaning in the dictionary. Children nearly always die but there is just a chance that an operation will save it – but this darling died just before the incision was made. Something suddenly seemed to obstruct its breathing so the Surgeon did tracheotomy but with no success. How we worked to bring back that child to life – we put it into a hot bath, did artificial respiration, gave it brandy and oxygen, but all was useless. I felt so sorry for the poor little Mother, she must have been so proud of her lovely boy.
A puny child would never get interserseption, the strong ones get it because they try to work off superfluous energy by kicking about, and then they injure themselves.
Our exam comes off next week and I have done very little work for it. I always intend to work but am so done in the evenings that my good intentions vanish into thin air!
Wooden huts will certainly be a change after your luxurious living! I am so glad you are having a comfortable time for a bit – it will be something nice to look back to – one of your memories.
I must end, now, dear, as I am very, very sleepy and sad – forgive my depressing letter and write soon to me.
God bless you, dear Heart, all my love is yours now and ever –
Your devoted
Mela
PTO - Were you thinking of me last night, Love? You seemed so near. I seemed to feel your arms round me and feel your touch on my hair. When I awoke to the fact that it was my imagination I could hardly believe it – when I go to sleep, Sweetheart, I always think of you, as when we spent our last evening hour together – it comforts me and helps me to rest.
Goodnight, Beloved – some day, God willing, it will not be imagination.
