15 December 1917 Stuart to Edith - Letter #51

Stuart to Edith
Dec. 15 1917
Sweetheart,
I am very sorry I interrupted you in the writing of that last letter for it was one of the best. What it would have been had you really finished it I can hardly imagine, for as it was, it was a gem.
It helped me to see something that I can do to prepare for the days to come; I must learn to be a gardener. I have said I dislike it, I do, there seems so many other ways, better and more congenial, of spending time; I think, however, that as now my mind turns to Home-building, I must do what I can and I shall try in the limited time at my disposal to learn to do that which will give us what we both desire “The home Beautiful”. It seems to me, although I have not given it very much thought, that a garden is required for that outside beauty and possibly vegetable as well as flower garden. Perhaps next year, if my funds allow it, I may be able to combine the two on my allotment and when I have more time, increase my piece of cultivated ground. I may too, be able to do something at home and you will then be able to see what efforts I am making and what good may or may not result. As you prophesy, it may mean giving up some of our pleasant times, but you and I will, next summer, be on a footing different from that on which we were this year. You dream great dreams too, of the future home. No, I hope we shall not live alone always, and I hope that those children will not find me, as my brother and sister seem to have, one to be feared.
I have spent a happy evening yesterday and a happy day to-day. I could not but think, as we sat quietly at work last night, of Gladys and of how I bored her; I need not ask if I bored you. It was to me a further testimony of the depth, purity, and reality of our mutual love that we could spend a short time in such a way, and a happiness in that I found time could be spent happily like that, for, I suppose it will often happen, if our dreams come true, that evenings, many evenings will be spent in a similar way. The last few minutes were of course the best of all, but I think we should have marred the evening and its perfection if you had agreed to my other suggestion. I don’t know what or why it is, but there seems some blemish in it.
To-day too, has been very, very nice; there seemed to me to be a further help in the relationships between us; I hardly know what to call it and the best word I can think if is “camaraderie”. We seemed to talk more freely and you I thought, unburdened yourself more easily; was it imagination? And after we got home; those few minutes with you leaning on my shoulder and standing by me as I read, seemed just Perfection. I wonder if you knew or guessed how very much I then wanted to kiss you, my Dearest. Thank you for those words you showed to me; they were meant to cheer and help, were they not?
Although I sometimes feel that I have failed to create the home atmosphere I should have wished, I feel that it is not all my own fault and that really my opportunities have been few. After all, I have tried, but the forces against me have, at least for the time, prevailed, and it remains to be seen if ever it is, whether my efforts bear fruit here. Whatever happens, I shall have more experience for the time when you and I go home building.
That thought clings to me like a limpet and I have found it helps very much. It helps me to look forward happily to those days we hope to spend together, it helps me to bear the inconveniences and unpleasantnesses I must at home. I just won’t see more than I can help but look forward.
You half-reproached me once for not looking and being happy. Is there any improvement? If so, it is due to you; and although perhaps modesty will bid you deny it. I think common-sense will affirm it; for what else have I here to make me happy, if it is not you, my Best of Women?
As I think, comparing ourselves with others, I do not see how two could be happier together than we are and hope to be and as I form the best judgement I can of our characters it seems to me that we have between us, many of the qualities which go towards the making of a perfect Home.
A perfect home! – that is what I dream of so often. I want to do my share in the building of it and I want in the preparation time, to get ready for it, and so I am going to try to follow out the inspiration which you gave to me and endeavour to be a gardener, and one other thing, which is my independent idea although you agree with me, and that is to read the best of books, which, I agree, help one to live the highest life.
I must say Goodbye, my Dearest, my really Sweetheart, you who we hope will one day be – My Wife, for it is 12.20 a.m. It is very late, but you must forgive me; I wanted to write a long note without any restrictions of time and Gladys did not go to bed till 11.15, since when I have been writing, but must now stop.
Goodbye, Belovéd, goodbye, I wish I could write some nice things such as you will read in “Walter Greenaway” but although I cannot say it so nicely, you are to me all that is beautiful, pure, and good, you are to me My Perfect Woman.
Once more Goodbye, may God indeed be with you and may He grant us that happiness we so earnestly desire.

(c) DearestBeloved 2009