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Most people were surprised that I chose Abraham rather than one
of my other suitors. You see, I was considered to be quite pretty, and I was
well educated and came from a wealthy family, so I had many choices. I think I
fell in love with him because he was so different from all the others. And
because we could talk about anything and everything. More importantly, he
listened to me. He respected me as a person, not just as a woman,
although he did like that part quite well. None of my family or friends
could see his potential, but I knew that beneath that awkward exterior was a man
with the strength, the courage, and the spirit to someday be president. And I
had wanted to be president my entire life.
My husband has never been an easy man to live with anyway,
what with his poor health, his depression, his constant forgetfulness, and his
frontier manners. He’s never cared beans about society or etiquette. Why, he
still eats with a spoon most times, and uses his
own knife in the butter. I finally taught him to use a napkin, but he
still tucks it in his shirt collar. I must have asked him a hundred times in the
early years, "Father, how can you ever expect to show presidential potential
when you don’t even show parlor potential?"
Abraham seldom speaks to me at all now. I've lost him in the
tragedy of the war. His face is blanched and deeply furrowed, and his left eye
is usually stuck up high in its socket. He has lost more than 30 pounds and has
aged as many years. He walks with a shuffle, bent over from the constantly
growing weight of dead soldiers on his back. He has horrible nightmares, and
walks in his sleep, often wandering outside, giving the rebels good aim at his
long white nightshirt. I watch him through the window as he meanders, both hands
on his heart, his face toward Heaven, and I can taste his tears.
Shortly after noon today, I went with Abraham to meet the
Cabinet and sign the Emancipation Proclamation. He had shaken so many hands at
the reception that his fingers were limp and highly swollen. Only 12
people attended the ceremony, but the decree has gone forth and no unprincipled
zealots can ever eradicate it. But what was supposed to be a celebration
was clouded with painful memories. Since we last stood in the New Year’s
Day receiving line, we have passed through the fiery furnace of affliction, both
personally with the loss of our darling Willie, and in our beloved country,
having endured some 2000 battles.
All I want for my birthday
is peace and a return to the way life once was. To bed now at not yet 8 PM to
bury myself and my continually aching head, hoping for the relief of silence. My
youth, like everything else pleasant, has vanished in this horrid war. Each
morning as I awaken from troubled sleep, I wonder if we will ever be right
again. This invisible band around my skull keeps pushing inward, inward, trying
to crush my brain. My stomach lies in corded knots. I have cried so long that my
tears are no longer salty. My hands are cold, but my body burns from intense
fever. Dr. Stone says I must go out more in the open air, but it smells like
death.
This war has hurt everyone, but that’s all behind us now.
Five days ago, Robert E. Lee surrendered to US Grant at Appomattox. And
two days ago, the Union army secured Mobile, the last stronghold of the south.
Thank God this war is finally over, and there will be no more killing.
Everything will soon be like it was supposed to be in the White House. The
guards have all been released and we can now come and go as we please. I’ve been
prescribed new medicine to even out my moods and my temper is under control.
Abraham is already eating and sleeping a little better, and the sadness he’s
worn for the past 4 years has been replaced with a kind of…serenity. Now
we can love again the way we used to. We’ll enjoy our last four years in
the White House, and then we’ll grow very old together back in Springfield.
We’ll take long walks, and lie entwined on rainy mornings listening to the sound
of each other’s breathing. We’ll entertain and see every Shakespearean
play. We’ll travel to London, Paris, Rome. I’ll study French again
and Abraham will learn to play the piano. Tad will become a famous
playwright and Bob will sit on the Supreme Court. Oh, it will all be so
wonderful!
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