238 - MERMOZ, Jean

MERMOZ, Jean L.A.S. “Jean,” Martigues, September 18, 1931, to his “Beloved Mom”; 4 pages, in-4 format, on letterhead from the Hôtel Sainte-Anne. Disagreement between Mangaby and Gilberte. He thinks he’ll be completely ready by Friday. “We would have been ready long ago if we’d proceeded more methodically in Paris. Here we’re better off for working… there’s only one person in charge… all the issues have been thoroughly examined, and this time we’re confident in what we can do.” But bad weather threatens to delay everything. He’s requesting weather reports from Argentina and Uruguay. “If I had any chance of finding two or three days of good weather over there, perhaps I’ll head to Buenos Aires at the end of the month?” I’m having the second engine sent here, along with my radio; Mailloux has been notified. In eight or ten days, I’ll know for sure. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll pop over to Paris to pick you up and see Grandpa and Grandma before I leave.” He’d like his mother’s trial to be over. “The only thing that really hurts me is that, when you’re with Gilberte and me, you’re never truly happy; during the few days and moments we spend with you […] you don’t speak, you don’t say anything […] your presence—which so often feels so distant—surprises and revolts me. Mom, my little mom, you who are—and whom I know to be—so good… sometimes it seems to me that I no longer feel you, no longer recognize you. Yet you’ve cared for Gilberte as if she were your own daughter […] but I can sense so clearly that you did it solely for my sake, and that deep down, you still hold the same slight against her: that she has taken up such a large place in my life that there isn’t enough left for you… you suffer because of it… I understand that, too. But Mom, everyone has their own life, their own destiny. Gilberte came into mine at a time when I least expected it… that’s the eternal law of human life, and I couldn’t escape it. What can you do about it? She’ll stay as long as fate allows… we love each other and we’re living our lives… just like everyone else. […] Mom, I understand why you’re suffering, but my life is my life… that’s how it’s been shaped for me, and neither of us can do anything about it. I don’t know what the present and the future hold for me: it doesn’t matter to me. I rejoice in the fate that has been given to me, and I would face this storm with fortitude should it become less merciful toward me. I’m simply aware that I act with loyalty and integrity in every situation… so I’m not prepared to fail in that regard toward you, who are my mother, one of the two people I love most in this world. And that is why I want there to be no ambiguity between us […] Gilberte has a very deep affection for you […] mine has not changed; it is simply more masculine, perhaps less demonstrative than in the past… but you must not hold that against me: I have many worries, many things on my mind… and then, seeing you like this—withdrawn, shut in on yourself, by choice […]—that pushes me away, and I find it difficult to draw closer to you”… Etc. Source: - Jean Mermoz (1901–1936); - Gabrielle Gillet-Mermoz (1880–1955); - Then passed down through the family