Something from the archives to kick off the Rainbow Advent Calendar this year. Caleb writes to his sister in the winter between Home Is Where You Are and Returning Home.
Don’t forget to check out the other contributions as the month goes on here and over on the Facebook group
Nebraska, December 1873
Dearest Sarah,
I hope this letter finds you well, and that this package arrived before Midwinter. The weather is beginning to draw in here and I imagine the mail-train will be delayed before long. But I will hope for the best. And don’t worry if you don’t hear from us again until the spring. I fear the next few months might find us snowbound until the weather breaks.
Your parcel arrived today to much excitement. I continue to be grateful for the trinkets you send even if they serve as a sad reminder that we won’t see you in person for many months.
Having said that, it might take me that long to forgive you for sending Piggy a rattle. I can only infer that you hate both Jacob and I and never want us to have a moments peace again. To say that its bells are shrill would be an understatement and, of course, the rascal loves it. He’s so big now, Sarah, I can hardly believe it. I think that Jacob intends to include in his letter a portrait he made of Piggy sleeping. It’s a very good likeness, but I imagine the boy will have changed entirely when you see him next. He still sleeps in our bed most of the time (less marital bliss, more baby feet in my back) but it’s a lot less inconvenient now that he manages to stay dry at night. The only problem currently being that he requires both of us to be awake should he need to relieve himself — me to hold the po and Jacob to provide encouragement. I blame Jacob entirely for this. His high-pitched enthusiasm and showering the boy with kisses every time he passes water has given him unrealistic expectations which I pray don’t continue into adulthood.
We almost had tears from him when he (Piggy, not Jacob) saw that Martha had received some ribbons from you. He was much taken with them and finding none of his own, had a quivering lip until Martha most generously tied one of hers to his wrist in a messy bow, which waved around as he shook that damnable rattle, much to his delight.
Martha continues to surprise us. Not in her above generosity (it’s not unusual for her to be attentive and kind to Piggy, undoubtedly taking her cues from the way Ephraim dotes upon her) but in her sharp intelligence. She still has times when she seems a little shy but they are so rare now it’s hard to imagine a time when she wasn’t out-spoken. She continues to improve rapidly with her lessons, more so than Ephraim in that regard (thank you for the books, by the way, she is rapidly working her way through my modest collection already so they are much appreciated). I have high hopes for her in that regard. Currently she is set on traveling Europe to visit every museum and art gallery from London to Florence. In fact, I’m not sure who is more excited at the prospect, Martha or her incorrigible father. Few things delight Jacob more than reading to Martha from that book you brought him last spring, describing all the great works of the masters and where they are housed. I’d wager the only thing that brings him more joy is the look of rapture on Martha’s face as they plan their grand tour.
Ephraim was most delighted with the flyers from the circus. Now we’re inundated with questions about elephants rather than cattle and pigs. You’ll be glad to know that Jacob told him that you would be the person to ask about all things pachyderm so brace yourself when you open his letter. We’ve set aside tomorrow for letter writing (the children were far too excited by their gifts to put pencil to paper today) although I fear it will take Ephraim longer than one afternoon to finish his. Especially if his inquiries about monkeys weren’t satisfied by our thin encyclopedia as I fear.
Thank you as always for the bonbons and writing paper. I certainly approve of this new nib. Much less scratchy than the old one. I appreciate your gifts so much, even though it would be hard to surpass the one you sent me two years ago. Said gift is currently snoring away opposite me in his favorite chair as I write (when I wake him he’ll swear that he was just resting his eyes, even though he sounds like a suffocating pig). It seems like a lifetime ago that I was living alone in that tiny cabin, a world away from my life now surrounded by love and laughter. It hasn’t been easy — Lord knows, I haven’t made things easy for them — but for the most part, I think we are happy.
I won’t lie. There are times when I wish for the simpler life I had back then, and I know there are definitely times when Jacob misses the city, his friends, and his family. He feels the isolation keenly even though he’ll deny it to his dying day. I think the children, too, are homesick sometimes, not so much for the orphanage but for their mother. I chose this hard life for myself and I feel selfish and guilty for making them stay here with me. But then when I think about returning to how things once were, before Jacob came, before the children, I can’t imagine it. I know there will come a time when the children are grown with families of their own and life will be quieter again. But I hope you don’t think too badly of me if I say that I pray that it is a long time coming. I couldn’t bear to lose them too soon.
And speaking of family, Jacob and I spoke at great length after your last letter and the one I received from Papa. I still have my reservations but much like Piggy and his toilet habits, I received much encouragement and a plethora of kisses, the outcome of which is that, yes, as soon as it is convenient I will bring the children to New York and marry my mate there. If only so that you will talk of something else. I suspect that more than a marriage, you anticipate that this trip will in some way reconcile me to our parents. I confess I have difficulty imagining that to be possible but as you point out, you are my elder, and therefore my better and I should defer to your superior judgement. Given your advancing years, I will.
Ah, the hog is awakening, so I shall end here with all the words you’ve come to expect. I miss you. Please pass on my regards to the household. I hope to see you very soon. And have a joyous New Year.
Your ever faithful and loving brother,
Caleb
©Alex Jane 2023
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