9 2 V O L U M E 8 , D O C U M E N T 4 9 4 a
As far as Albert is concerned, there is absolutely no reason why he should have
to be cared for somewhere
else.[3]
My state of health is now such that I can lie down
quite well at home; although I can’t get up, I can very well occupy myself quite a
considerable amount with the children, and this makes me very happy and contrib-
utes much to my
well-being.[4]
My doctor, in whom I have great confidence and
who has much experience specifically in conditions such as mine, gives his full ap-
proval. I sunbathe at home and do a few other things as well, and more cannot be
done in hospital, either; forcing such things accomplishes nothing, as I have al-
ready seen from personal experience; every attempt to force anything had severe
consequences. At home like this with the children, I have the joy of living together
with them, and it is better for the children as well; they have a home and grow up
together under my supervision. I beg you, therefore, to regard this matter as settled;
it is surely best this
way.[5]
I would like to request once again that you directly forward the money and com-
munications intended for
me.[6]
I think you will understand without my dwelling
on it and not refuse me this request; it would spare me many an upset.
As concerns Albert, it would surely be good if you would answer his letter in at
least a few words; if he must constantly appear as a culprit in your eyes, he will
soon lose all openness toward you; it was certainly not his intention to hurt you.
[7]
What are your thoughts on this?
With kd. regards,
Mileva.
Vol. 8, 494a. From Vero Besso
Zurich, 28 March 1918
Dear Mr. Einstein,
The postcard you sent to my mother was really not
nice;[1]
for she had taken such
great pains, as though she were doing it for her own brother. And she certainly did
not have any intention to dictate or dominate, as far as this is at all possible for a
concerned housewife.
She had started to take charge of the matter because she had been asked to do so,
because Papa went away on a trip—taking over, so to speak, as an inheritance—
and finally because she does not drop her hands in her lap with pity when she thinks
she can help, or when what is due seems to her to have been
denied.[2]
And having
once started, she carried it out to the best of her abilities.
Just remember the insular conversations, and although the content was a quite
different one, her character came to light just as clearly then as now through her
actions; with the difference that now matters have been touched upon that lie within