“Yes, but what difference does it make. With the war going on I am not going to be able to go to the university. I was hoping it would be over by now. But, in a few months I’ll be eighteen, and then I’ll have to register for a job working for the war effort anyway. Why not start now?”
“I can see what you mean. Every day I wish it would end, but only if we win. If God forbid we don’t, things will be much worse than they are now.”
CHAPTER 43
September 1942
A month earlier, in early August, Sharon got a job as an ambulance driver in Stoke Newington, London. After a month had passed, in order to save the daily bus fare, she moved in with Frances, a friend who lived walking distance from the ambulance station. Frances was part of the same rescue team as Sharon and working together in emergencies they’d become close friends as they learned to depend upon each other. They worked well together, and often joked that they knew instinctively what the other was thinking. Most weekends Sharon tried to come home. Sometimes she brought Frances with her. Sharon and Frances had a bond that was deeper than the bond Sharon and Gilde had shared. They cast knowing glances back and forth. Sharon sometimes whispered in Frances’s ear. Gilde felt left out, and watching them, she realized how much she missed having a surrogate sister in the house.
The business was failing miserably. They had not been able to make the rent the previous month, and now it was time to pay again and they were a month behind. Lenore had talked to Gilde about closing the shop. But they both knew that Sam would be hopeless if they closed the business, and it might have an effect on his health. He’d worked at that little shop for his entire life. It was all he knew. Every day he forced himself to come downstairs for at least a couple of hours. It was the only reason Sam had to get out of bed, and without it, Gilde and Lenore were afraid he would slowly fade away. The results of that could be fatal.
Since Sharon left, Gilde spent a lot of her time alone. Sam was asleep, the store was empty, and Lenore was at work. Most of her spare time she spent thinking of William or writing to him. It was hard to get her hands on any paper. Money was tight and spending it for paper seemed frivolous, but she’d made friends with Sam’s black market connection and occasionally they would bring her a few sheets as a gift. Gilde had also taken up knitting. An old lady who attended the same shul came to the shop one day to have an old watch fixed. It didn’t need much work and the old woman didn’t have much money. “No charge today,” Gilde had said, feeling sorry for her.
“You’re a good girl. How about if I teach you to knit as a payment? I’m very good at it.”
And so that was how Gilde learned to knit. It proved to be a useful pastime. If an old sweater, hat, or mittens became too worn to wear she took it apart and then used the yarn to make something new. With the clothing rations, it helped to be able to reuse everything.
Although she hadn’t shared her fears with anyone because she didn’t want to alarm them, Gilde was riddled with worry. She hadn’t received a letter from William in over a month. In fact, the last correspondence she’d received was in July. She checked the mail every day, and she knew that his family had not heard from him either because she always got the mail and there had been no letter. It is just the mail, she told herself. The mail is slow. But fear filled her belly and in her heart she knew something wasn’t right.
Then it came … the telegram from the British War Office. She’d tried to fight the nagging dread, but in truth she’d been expecting it. And even though she’d known it was coming when she saw who had sent it, her heart dropped even before she opened it. The boy who had delivered the telegram stood at the door waiting for a tip. Gilde was too stunned to get him any money. In fact she didn’t even thank him for making the delivery. She just took the paper and closed the door. Her heart was beating wildly. The paper cut her finger as she forced the letter open. Blood dripped on the white sheet as she read the words that had haunted her every nightmare since William had left, turning the corner of the street and disappearing to where she could no longer see him. “We deeply regret to inform you...” the letter began.
She read on. He had been somewhere off the coast of France. His ship was destroyed; a memorial would be erected at a later date.
This couldn’t be true. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. All they had together as a married couple were two days? William would never hold her in his arms again. “Why, God? Why? Haven’t you taken enough from me? Why William too?”
Sam was asleep. Lenore was at work. Sharon was not at home. Gilde had to cope with this sad and horrifying moment all alone.
She read the telegram again, hoping that she’d somehow made a mistake. But she hadn’t. What happened, how did he die? Did he suffer? Oh God she hoped he hadn’t suffered. Her dear sweet lover, husband, and best friend. Gone forever ... no more hope, no more letters.
Gilde slumped down on the sofa and put her face into her hands. “Oh William … all of our dreams … all of our hopes … the home and children we’ll never share….” The cut in her heart was so deep that she wept aloud.
CHAPTER 44
Gilde told Lenore about William. Lenore stood unable to speak, trembling when she heard the news. Then she began to cry. She reached out to take Gilde in her arms. But Gilde wanted to be alone. Her pain and loss was too great to share. She wanted to bury her face in William’s pillow. She hadn’t washed the pillowcase since he left. Now she never would. If there was even a trace of his essence still there, she wanted to inhale it, to take it deep inside of her and hold it there forever. Gilde walked slowly up the stairs to the room she and William had shared for those two nights. Two nights she would remember for the rest of her life. Her body felt heavy and burdensome. Once she was alone she threw herself on the bed where she and William had made love and buried her tears in his pillow. Let Lenore call Sharon, or even worse tell Sam. She couldn’t hold anyone else up. Her grief was too much and she just couldn’t bear it.
CHAPTER 45
When Lenore told Sam about William, he turned over in his bed and stared at the wall.
Sam died that night. He had a heart attack in his sleep. Gilde didn’t find out until the morning when the ambulance was making a lot of noise taking his body away. She was alerted by the roaring of the siren and all of the movement in the hallway, and then the strange voices in the house. Gilde would have liked to stay locked in her dark room forever, until she too died. But there was far too much commotion in the house for her to remain hidden in her bedroom.
She wore her housecoat over her nightgown with an old pair of slippers that were broken and flapping as she walked. She’d meant to fix them, but she kept forgetting. Right now, she no longer cared.
Lenore was sitting curled up in the corner of the lumpy sofa and weeping. Gilde sat down beside her and ran her fingers over the floral fabric.
“What happened?” Gilde asked gently.
“I told Sam about Wil last night. He died in his sleep. I found him this morning.”
“Oh my God.” Gilde put her arms around Lenore and held her. Lenore laid her head on Gilde’s shoulder and watched as two medics carried Sam’s body, covered with a sheet, out on a stretcher. Gilde rubbed Lenore’s back. They sat that way for almost an hour then Gilde asked, “Did you call and tell Sharon?”
“Yes, I called. She should be on her way home.” Lenore’s shoulders slumped. She’d lost so much weight since the food rations began, and now the tragedies of the past two nights were carved in deep wrinkles on her face. Her eyes were sunken and red. Gilde looked at her and felt guilty for not having embraced her the previous evening when Lenore had tried to hug her. Yes, it was true, Gilde was hurting, and Gilde had lost her husband. Last night the emptiness and the ache inside of Gilde was eating her from the inside out and all she wanted was to bear the weight of the pain alone in her dark room, but she was being selfish, should have thought about Lenore. After all, Gilde wasn’t the only one who’d been shattered; her mother-in-law had lost her so
n. Gilde should have been with Lenore to give her strength when she told Sam. But Gilde had thought only of her own pain, and now she was overcome with grief and regret about how she’d behaved. And, to add to the weight of the tragedy that had become her life, her father-in-law who was such a good friend was gone now too.
“I’ll make us some tea.” Gilde said to Lenore, her heart was heavy, but she filled the pot with water and put it over the gas flame, then she sat back down beside Lenore and waited for the water to boil.
Lenore rambled incessantly, going on in fits of nostalgia about William when he was a child and Sam when they were first married. Gilde listened because she knew Lenore needed to talk, but she wished she could get away and be alone.
CHAPTER 46
Sept 1942
Sharon and Frances arrived and Gilde was glad to see them. She was weak and overwhelmed. And Lenore needed comforting. Perhaps they could take over with Lenore for a while. Gilde could use the break. Frances was a blessing. She made all of the funeral preparations for the family. She telephoned Rabbi Silverman who arrived at the house within the hour. He arranged for the funeral home to take care of Sam’s body. Then Frances contacted all of the people on a list of close friends that Lenore dictated to her. As Gilde watched Frances comfort Sharon, she realized what she had overlooked before. Sharon and Frances were lovers. It was apparent to Gilde in the way they communicated with each other with their eyes. Gilde had been jealous of Sharon’s closeness to Frances, but now she understood. It was the same closeness she’d shared with William. Gilde had not lost her surrogate sister.Sharon had not replaced her. Sharon had found her true love. It was good that Lenore didn’t see the relationship for what it was. She would have been upset. And right now, Lenore couldn’t cope with much more. Gilde would never mention it to her or to Sharon. But as she watched Sharon and Frances together a lot of things became clear to her. Like why Sharon had never shown an interest in any of the boys they met. Gilde smiled to herself. Although she was facing agonizing grief, she was glad that at least her dear sister Sharon had found happiness.
The burial for Sam was to be the following day. There would be a service at the synagogue for both William and Sam. But because there was no body the service at the gravesite would be only for Sam. Rabbi Silverman called one of the congregants who had been a friend of Sam and Lenore’s to act as the shomer and stay with Sam until the burial. Later that night Frances put together a small meal and tried to insist that the family eat something. But no one was able to eat.
The following day they walked to the temple for the memorial service. Rabbi Silverman told wonderful stories about Sam’s kindness and generosity. Then, since the rabbi had known William all of his life, he told a funny story about William preparing for his bar mitzvah. Tears came to Gilde’s eyes as the rabbi talked about the wedding between William and Gilde. He mentioned a private conversation he’d had with William years before he’d ever met her William had asked the rabbi questions about looking for his beshert. “‘How will I know when I find her, how will I be sure that she is the right one?’ William asked me one Friday night after services,” Rabbi Silverman said. “I told him your heart will tell you, William.” The rabbi looked directly at Gilde. “The day William and Gilde came to me to ask me to marry them, William turned to me and whispered, ‘You were right, Rabbi, my heart has spoken. Gilde is the one.’”
Gilde wept openly. She imagined William as a younger man asking the rabbi about his beshert. She thought about how kind William was to her, about how he’d surprised her at the old abandoned house, about the North Star. She couldn’t remember what life was like before she loved William. She couldn’t recall how she felt before she knew him. Now, she had no idea how she was going to go on with her life without him.
The entire group walked to the cemetery, which was just a street away from the synagogue. Gilde stood beside Lenore on one side, Sharon stood on Lenore’s other side. The heat of summer still lingered. A thin line of sweat trickled down the back of Gilde’s neck and found its way into the black dress she’d borrowed from Sharon. The sun beat down on Gilde’s head and shoulders. This was all too much. Her eyes burned from crying and her throat was raw and dry. The rabbi was speaking, but she couldn’t hear him. Her heart was screaming in pain. It was saying that after today her life would never be the same. How many times would she have to change course. She had been uprooted so many times. How many loved ones would she have to lose before she could finally go to her own rest?
Most of the people who were at the cemetery had been at the synagogue. They’d come up and said their condolences to Gilde, Lenore, and Sharon. They were neighbors, friends from the shul, customers from the store. They were gathered in a circle. Some of them patted Lenore’s arm, trying to give her strength. A customer came up behind Gilde, forcing her to turn around. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said. Gilde nodded.
The woman had made Gilde look behind her. What she saw was all of their dear friends, standing in the hot sun at the cemetery, so devoted and proud in their worn clothes and holey shoes. There was no doubt that she’d suffered from some anti-Semitism in the UK. The British were not perfect. But she couldn’t help but admire them. The English were fighters. No matter what was thrown at them, they refused to surrender, they would not be broken. All of the people she knew had endured so much since the beginning of the war, the death of friends or family, fear of invasion, and terrible shortages of everything, with the bravery of lions. William was born and raised in London, and she could say without a doubt that he had been a fighter. Tears filled her eyes. She was broken without him, but so proud of his courage, his character, and the wonderful integrity that was her dear William.
Sharon wept softly. Frances patted her arm and whispered something in her ear.
Lenore was dry-eyed, but grief-worn and disheveled. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair, which had turned gray over the past year, had not been combed.
In a deep haunting voice that broke the silence of the afternoon, the rabbi began the Hebrew prayers. Gilde had never learned Hebrew, but the musical rhythm of the soulful words expressed the depth of sadness and loss in her soul.
When he finished the prayers the rabbi said in English, “This war has brought tragedy to many families. Today we must trust in God’s plan as we say our goodbyes to Samuel Michael Lawrence and his son, William Jacob Lawrence….”
There was no breeze that day, only relentless heat. Gilde watched the rabbi and remembered how happy she was the day she’d married William. It was the best day of her young life. Her heart had never been so joyful. And in equal measure her heart had never been as sad as it was today.
The casket was lowered into the ground. The family each took turns shoveling a small bit of earth upon the grave. This was the Jewish way of saying goodbye.
Gilde walked silently beside Lenore, Sharon, and Frances, all the way back to the apartment. Mrs. Weiss, had set up the shiva. She’d left a towel and a little bit of water in small glass on the steps. It was a good thing it was only a bit of water because recently a water shortage had been declared. Now bathing was to be done once a week. People living together were expected to use the same bathing water, and most importantly, bathtubs were only to be filled to four inches deep. For Gilde, this was the most difficult of all the rations. Sharon knew how fastidious Gilde was, so she always insisted that Gilde bathe first. Gilde was generous about sharing her rations, but this was one thing she relished and never offered to give up.
Lenore arrived at the door first. She carefully poured a couple of drops of the precious water onto her hands then dried them with the towel before entering the shiva house, the house of mourning. Next was Gilde and then Sharon. This was a symbolic cleaning of the hands, which was the Jewish tradition for those returning from a cemetery following a funeral. Then each of the visitors who’d come to pay their respects followed suit.
Gilde didn’t know where Mrs. Weiss had gotten the food, but a small spread was laid out
on the table. There were a few slices of brown bread cut into quarters then toasted and smeared with a thin coat of margarine, a few slices toasted and thinly covered with canned beans, and a few more with a light spread of marmalade. And two eggs, sliced very thin. The mourners removed their shoes. They would spend the entire seven days of the shiva in their stocking feet, sitting on hard surfaces. Out of respect, the visitors waited until the mourners, the immediate family, had taken their food. Gilde had no appetite. She put a half slice of bread with margarine on a plate and went to sit down. Mrs. Weiss had done a good job of preparing the house. All of the mirrors were covered with sheets, so that the mourners would not see their own grief. This would normally continue for the next seven days, but Sharon had an important job to do, and it was necessary for her to return to work the following morning.
Sharon and Frances sat close to each other in the corner, while Gilde sat beside Lenore. Neither of them was able to eat.
The rabbi had gathered ten old men who were friends of the family and members of the congregation to put together a minyan, in order to say Kaddish, prayers for the dead. Gilde had never attended a traditional Jewish funeral before. The customs were strange to her. She wasn’t sure what they all meant, but her grief was far too great for her to bother asking. She sat quietly beside Lenore. Friends of the family came over to say they were sorry and share pleasant memories of the deceased. Some of the visitors brought a few cookies, or a few small pastries. It was a custom to bring something sweet and leave it for the mourners and guests. Then each visitor was to have a bite of something sweet before walking out of a shiva house. But during wartime it was very difficult to come by any baked goods. The reason for a shiva is to help divert the family from their grief, and the visitors seemed to distract Lenore, to help her escape the pain even for a few hours. But it didn’t help Gilde at all. If it weren’t for Lenore, Gilde would have retreated to her room and stayed there. Every night after the visitors left, Gilde went into her room and reread all of William’s letters.
Watch Over My Child: Book Three in the Michal's Destiny Series Page 16