Yannick Grannec - The Goddess of Small Victories

Enough for now about my old people. You’ve had your share of experiences with the elderly over the years. As far as my own health goes, I’m doing fine. I still reject your theory that old age is contagious. Write me soon, as I’m longing to hear about your adventures. Whatever made you move to the far side of the country? I’d be really angry with you if I didn’t like you so much. You’ve certainly earned the right to some sunshine .

Big hug ,

Beth

Princeton, April 2, 1975

Dearest Jane ,

You always give me good advice, but I just couldn’t bring myself to quit. I can’t leave Adele to deal with her situation alone. I’m just not coldhearted enough. That man is going to drive me crazy! How did she put up with him for all those years, day after day? He’s not exactly mean, but he wears you out! At every meal I have to fight to get him to take even a tiny bit of food. Just to make him eat two little pieces of carrot, I have to cajole, beg, and threaten. He basically lives on an egg and two spoonfuls of tea a day! Every single morning he asks me if I remembered to buy oranges, and then he refuses to eat one. If I weren’t so fond of Adele (I can hear you saying “so sorry for Adele”), I’d have fled long ago. As it is, no one wants to deal with his manias anymore. Except his old friend Morgenstern, whom I’ve mentioned before, and a young “logician” of Asian background (I don’t exactly understand what he does!). They don’t visit him often, but they talk to him on the telephone all the time. Mr. Morgenstern has cancer, but he’s careful not to let his friend know, so as not to worry him. How does this crazy old coot manage to have such good friends? According to Adele, Mr. Gödel was a top expert in his field. The man I’m looking after is a pitiful old geezer on the brink of total senility. He has just been awarded the National Medal of Science, a very big honor. In the state he’s in, I doubt he’ll be able to attend the ceremony .

I haven’t talked about anything but my two charges. I live day by day with them. Their suffering has become my burden .

I really thank you for your invitation, Jane. I can’t accept it at the moment. I just can’t walk away from the Gödels. Am I becoming overly involved with them? Of course! But you would have grown fond of them too, in my place. Adele is fairly gruff, even sharp sometimes, but she’s very brave. You’ve always liked love stories, and this is a real one. The fairy tales never mention how Prince Charming ends up: babbling and incontinent. I’ll never have the good fortune, or the wonderful ill fortune, to grow old with the love of my youth. Some days I’m glad, and other days sorry .

This is a sad letter, I hope you don’t mind too much. You are such a good listener, Jane .

Your fond friend ,

Beth

Princeton, June 15, 1976

Dearest Jane ,

In your last letter you asked for details about my “two old people.” Poor Adele has been hospitalized. She had another stroke. She is in critical condition, delirious and needing to be fed intravenously. I’m exhausted. I spend my time shuttling between the house and the hospital, driving Mr. Gödel to his wife’s bedside. He is painful to look at, like an abandoned child. I do his shopping. I cook little dishes for him, but he says he prefers to make his own meals. I don’t believe him. He is completely irrational. Some days, he’ll talk to me about Adele for hours on end. Other days, he suspects me of belonging to a plot to get him fired from his job. He forgets that he has already retired. Adele’s stroke is perhaps related to the stress she has been under these past few weeks. Her husband escaped from the hospital where he was due for an emergency operation to replace his catheter. He walked home on foot. While I stood there, he accused his wife of wanting to kill him and of having siphoned off all his money while he was gone. The poor woman cried in discouragement. Several people tried to talk him into taking a sedative, including the doctor and his friend Morgenstern, but they all failed. He held out stubbornly for several days in a state of semidelirium. He even called his brother in Europe to ask him to be his legal guardian. The next day, he announced that he hated his brother. What this woman has had to put up with is beyond all telling. By being extraordinarily patient, she actually managed to calm him down. Everything seemed back in order (if there can be any order in a house full of crazies), when she suddenly began to feel unwell. We took her to the hospital immediately. Ever since, her husband has been filled with concern for her. Mr. Morgenstern is also not a pretty sight. He has grown thin and uses his last remaining energy worrying about his capricious walking corpse of a friend. Mr. Gödel should be locked up somewhere. Adele refuses to do it. She still finds ways to feel guilty about not being able to look after him .

I’m almost at the end of my rope, Jane. Send me courage. I swear that from now on I’ll only look after newborns! Will you remind me of this?

Beth

Princeton, September 2, 1977

Dearest Jane ,

The latest news is not good. Adele has been in intensive care for the last two months. She was already in poor shape because of her stroke, I’m not sure she’ll manage to recover from her colostomy. Even in the best circumstances, she won’t go home before Christmas. If she goes home at all. Her fear of leaving her husband all alone is the one thing that keeps her alive. What I worried would happen at the start of the summer has in fact come to pass. It didn’t take any great foresight! Mr. Gödel has shut himself away at home and refuses all help. With his wife not there, he has stopped eating. I leave small plates of food for him. I find them untouched the next morning. Yesterday I found a chicken covered with flies on the doormat. Someone else is trying to bring him food too .

I just don’t know how to hide the truth from Adele anymore. She blames herself for having left him to his own devices: “What is he going to do without me? Elizabeth, are you bringing him food every day?”

Mr. Gödel no longer opens his door for anyone. He won’t let me help him. When I manage to reach him by telephone, he accuses me of keeping his colleagues from visiting. He asks for his friend Oskar. Mr. Morgenstern died two months ago. He doesn’t want to admit it .

I’m afraid the end is near. For both of them. Now that she’s away, he is letting himself drift off. She won’t survive him .

Kiss a palm tree for me! This stab at humor might seem out of place to you. Believe me, I have to dip deep into my reserves so as not to drown alongside my charges .

Your affectionate and very tired friend ,

Beth

Princeton, January 21, 1978

Dearest Jane ,

You won’t be surprised to learn that Mr. Gödel died on January 14. Adele is in shock. She still can’t get her mind around it. She was so happy to have finally convinced him to enter the hospital. But despite the fact that she came home and looked after him, it was too late. He let himself die of hunger while she was gone. When he died, he weighed sixty-six pounds! How could a man as smart as he manage to get himself into such a position? I don’t understand. He passed away in the afternoon, curled up like a fetus in the armchair in his bedroom .