The blue aerograms, bleached by age, tied with a bow, take up a lot of room in a dresser drawer and in my heart. Physically, they weigh very little, but their emotional impact on my life is tremendous.
Every inch of each page is covered in tiny handwriting describing love, care, sweet words of endearment, worry, fear, and longing to be with me. The letters detail experiences in the new country, successes and failures, and mundane events that never seem mundane.
These letters cover the two and a half years after Marcel left Poland, until December 6, 1963, when we reunited.
He wrote about his first year in the United States with wonder and awe mixed with loneliness and longing for me, his parents, and friends.
His knowledge of the English language was gradually improving, but the idioms gave him the most problems. I read with laughter about his conversation at work when his boss gave him an assignment saying, “Shake a leg and finish in two weeks.” Fortunately, there were two Polish coworkers who explained to Marcel the meaning of this strange expression.
Another comedic situation ensued while Marcel’s height was measured. He was told that he was 65 inches tall. Being trained in the metric system, he quickly converted it to 6 feet and 5 inches. The surprised person doing the measurements added another idiom to his vocabulary
by saying, “You must be pulling my leg, or you are kneeling.”
As with every new immigrant, Marcel’s letters expressed his ups and downs. Buying a car, something absolutely unthinkable in Poland, was definitely exciting and joyful. Missing me, family, and friends, especially in the beginning, was painful. At those times I tried to cheer him up by writing what I strongly believed, that “if two people aspire to the same goal, which they honestly desire, they will at the end achieve it and will be together.”
My letters, since I stayed in Poland, were more of the mundane variety. They described my very hard work studying pharmacy, with countless tests and exams.
Nevertheless, I managed to attend some concerts of classical music and saw many films that I described to Marcel. One of the highlights of that time was my trip to Moscow with my father to celebrate a new year in 1961. I shared with Marcel my fascination with seeing the Red Square and Lenin entombed there.
Finally, toward the end of the separation, our letters discussed plans for the future, and I confided in Marcel how difficult it will be to leave my family and friends in Poland. Nevertheless, after I arrived in the United States, I never regretted my decision.
Reading these letters, I realized I became a different person with age, and I look at the younger me with bemusement. However, certain features have stayed with me. I am still curious, active, and interested in many things in life.
In 2024, Marcel and I will celebrate our 60th wedding anniversary.
Those sentimental letters allowed us to keep in touch for those two and a half years, to “participate” in each other’s lives, and to express our deepest feelings.
For this, we are grateful.
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