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#1132: Willa Cather to Zoë Akins, November 21 [1932]

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⬩W⬩S⬩C⬩ My Darling Zoë1;

I have just come back from the country3 and find your telegram, and the account of Hugo's4 death in the Sunday papers. What a dreadful shock for you, to have a big strong man go out like that! It makes one catch one's breath to think of it. Wasn't t it fortunate that you had that jolly honeymoon together in Mexico5, since this was going to happen? But why did it happen so soon,—less than a year after you were married. It's a brutal fact, Zoe, that after one is 45, it simply rains death, all about one, and after you've passed fifty, the storm grows fiercer. I never open the morning paper without seeing the death of someone I used to know, e East or West, staring me in the face.

And in the days when I first knew you, people didn't use to die at all; the obituary page never had the slightest connection with our personal life. Death just becomes a deep, be-numbing fact in one's life long before it ends one.

Keep up your routine, dear Zoë, keep your life going as you've always done: you'll be less lonely that way than ⬩W⬩S⬩C⬩ if you sit and think about things. And, just for the time, cut out alcohol. One's very apt to over do that when one is hard hit, and no ordinary human being can keep up with Jobyna6 without disasterous results. I'm not knocking Jobyna, but she is rather special in capacity, as she is in size. I wish I could run out to see you for a week, but I've come back to town2 with a rather bad eye, (which now has a bandage on it) otherwise very well. I've just signed a lease for an apartment at 570 Park Ave7, but I won't be moving for several weeks yet—can't even think of it until my eye clears up. It's merely a slight infection, but painful. I'll soon get the better of it. Do get the most you can out of your house and mind and thoughts. Personal life is rather a failure, always; biologically so. But something rather nice does happen in the mind itself as one grows older. If it hasn't begun with you yet, keep your courage, it will happen. A kind of golden light comes as a compensation for many losses. You'll see!! I wish I could have saved you this hard knock, my dear.

Willa
Mrs. Hugo Rumbold1 Green Fountains Brigden Road Pasadena8 California NEW YORK, N.Y. STA. D2 NOV 22 1932 1 PM Air Mail