February 2, 1970
(64)
Angel, my beloved wife and my good fortune,
I am overwhelmed with joy and gratitude as I write to you.
Yesterday at 12h25 PM, I received a phone call from Ottawa from the director of
the Canadian Council for International Cooperation, letting me know that I have
been offered the job. It felt almost unbelievable—the timing was so perfect
that I cannot thank God enough for everything.
After my interview last Friday, I felt very optimistic, but
also quite anxious. I needed to meet with the director general of the college
to discuss my contracts, as he intended to renew them, and I was unsure how to
handle the situation. I expected the answer from Ottawa to take about ten days,
so receiving this memorable phone call was an incredible surprise and a sign of
our good fortune.
The director shared that, following the interview, there was
no doubt among the interviewers that I was suited for the position. They
contacted the father superior of the Jesuit Mission Procuration to inquire
about my background, as well as people here at the college and finally the
parish priest. All the information they gathered was very positive, and there
was no hesitation—they called me right away.
We discussed the terms of my employment, including my
salary, which will begin at $8,500 per year, with a clause in the contract for
a review in three months. The contract is for one year initially. We also
talked about the location of my work, Ottawa or Montreal. I immediately
expressed my preference for Ottawa, and he was pleased with my choice. He asked
if I would be ready to start next Monday, and I confirmed that I would. So,
before Monday—possibly Sunday—I will move to Hull and stay with Odette for a few
days while I look for an apartment in Ottawa.
Angel, it is very important that, from the reception of this
letter onward, you write to me at my Ottawa address: 9 Rue Galipeau, Hull,
P.Q., Canada. As soon as I know my permanent address in Ottawa, I will send it
to you right away.
The days until Monday will pass quickly. This morning, I met
with the general director of the college to obtain the annulment of my contract
as responsible for pastoral duties, and I succeeded. The college is now working
to find two teachers to replace me. At home, I am preparing for my move by
bringing dishes and other household items that I have ordered and purchased for
our future home.
I will tell you more in my longer Friday letter, as there
are still many things to share. Before the end of the week, I also need to work
on your affidavits and hope to send them along with a $100 check this Saturday.
God has truly been wonderful to us, and so far, everything is unfolding as we
had hoped. Let us pray that this continues.
Now, the major challenges ahead are your passport and
permanent visa. Have you received any news from New Delhi? Please be patient—it
will come. And my laicization is also still pending. Through all these steps,
let us keep smiling and remain hopeful. I am very glad to be moving to Ottawa,
which is the ideal place for you. I am also happy about my new job and
everything that lies ahead.
Angel, I love you more than ever, and God continues to bless
our love. Nive na Premam, Jeevam, Sarvam. Please give my regards to your
parents.
 |
| Angel - 1970 |
Your Husband, kissing you infinitely, André
February 6, 1970
(65)
My beautiful, great wife, my LOVE, Angel,
There are so many things I wish to share with you today. The
most important news is that my love for you only grows stronger with each
passing day and will endure forever.
In just a few more hours, I will leave the college for good.
By Monday, I must be in Ottawa to begin my new job, so there is much to
accomplish before then. Although this week has been filled with emotions and
planning, leaving me somewhat tired, I am truly happy for both of us and filled
with gratitude.
Before I recount the events of my week, I want to address
your requests. The check for $300 and the affidavits will be sent at the same
time as this letter. Anasuya will receive an envelope containing the check made
out in her name, along with two copies of the affidavit. I must admit, I
initially felt uneasy about sending the requested amount in Anasuya's name.
Legally, she could cash the money, and you would have no claim to it should she
refuse to return it. That was why, in my previous letter, I considered sending
the money directly to you. However, after receiving your last two letters on
Monday, I changed my mind and trusted Anasuya completely, just as your parents
trust me through you. This reflection was shaped by the lesson of trust your
family has taught me.
Let me share what happened this week, starting with Monday.
I returned to work as usual, not expecting to hear about the job in Ottawa for
another ten days. You can imagine my joy when I received a phone call from
Ottawa at 12h20 PM—it felt surreal. That afternoon, I immediately informed the
administration of my new opportunity and asked them to find replacements for my
Sociology, Psychology, and Human Relations courses. For my role as Pastoral
Director, I planned to meet with the general director the following Monday to
request the annulment of my contract.
Returning home that night, I found two letters from you
waiting for me—a wonderful aerogram and a long letter, making it an especially
good day. During the evening, I began planning my move to Ottawa, where I would
stay with Odette and Rene for a few days before finding an apartment near my
workplace. With my mother, I started listing what I would need for our future
home: plates, utensils, a toaster, iron, a TV set, and more. The next day, my
mother ordered these items by phone to be delivered to Odette’s place.
On Thursday morning, I met with the general director of the
college to finalize the annulment of my contract, which was not without some
difficulty. Ultimately, the director agreed, saying no one could be forced to
work against their will. The rest of the day was filled with my usual duties,
including informing the students of the pastoral team about my departure and
writing my aerogram to you.
Wednesday was dedicated to preparing for my life in Ottawa.
After work, I visited Jacques and Monique’s home to meet Jacques’s uncle, who
could provide the affidavits. The uncle arrived around 9h00 PM, and within
minutes, the affidavits were completed. He graciously declined to take any
payment, saving me about $15. Please thank Jacques and Monique for their help
if you get the chance.
Thursday was particularly significant. I arrived at the
college at 8h00 AM, taught two courses, and attended a meeting with the
administration to discuss finding a replacement for my position as Pastoral
Director. By evening, we had come to a solution. After meetings with students,
I gave three more lectures from 7h00 to 10h00 PM, returning home exhausted at
11h00.
Now, it is Friday morning. There are farewells at the
college and heartfelt wishes of good luck. I will leave the college
definitively around 2h00 PM, then visit the bank to obtain the $300 for you and
the post office to register the letter to Anasuya. Afterward, I will return
home and begin packing. Tomorrow, Saturday, I have a meeting scheduled with the
director of the CCIC (Canadian Council for International Cooperation) at 1h00
PM. When I return home, I will continue packing and prepare my car for the trip
to Ottawa. On Sunday, I will go to Mass at 8h00 AM to thank the Lord for His
goodness, and in the afternoon, I will set out for Hull, planning to arrive in
time for supper. By Monday morning, I will begin my new job.
The events of this week prompt many reflections. I
anticipate my parents will be saddened by my departure after five months
together, and I share their feelings. They are no longer young, and I have been
able to help them in many ways. Though saying goodbye is difficult, it is also
necessary. If I stayed longer, their attachment would deepen, making my
eventual departure even harder.
My mother received your letter last week and shared it with
my father. She is clearly pleased and already loves you very much, even
planning to write to you personally and asking for my French-English dictionary
for that purpose. Monique and Jacques have also written to you, as they
mentioned on Wednesday.
As I prepare to start my new job on Monday, I am filled with
happiness. This position marks a complete break from the past—no more ambiguity
or complications. I am well prepared and confident that I will enjoy this new
chapter. Being a little farther from family, but close enough to maintain
contact, offers the advantage of a fresh start where I am not burdened by
questions about my past. Living independently in my apartment will also ease
the transition when you arrive, as we will be able to begin our life together
smoothly, without the need to search for a house.
The greatest benefit, though, is for you. Ottawa is an ideal
place—an English-speaking city with more opportunities for work, close to
Odette’s house and family who can support you.
Now, all that remains is my laicization and the approval of
your visa and passport. Once those are granted, we will be together at last.
Let us be patient and grateful for how far we have already come—the most
difficult steps are behind us. We have done all that we can; now we wait for
the Canadian and Indian governments and for Rome.
Regarding your recent letter: The money and affidavit are
taken care of. As for the notice from the Canadian government, what you
described is the visa. The ratification will be issued from New Delhi, and they
will contact you. Please wait for their call—if you do not hear from them
within a month and a half, we will decide what to do. Concerning the exit visa,
do not worry; it is simply a permit from your government allowing you to leave,
which Air India can arrange when the time comes. Yes, I will buy your ticket
through Air India as soon as you instruct me to do so, preferably not before
March so that the bank’s interest is paid at the end of February. However, if
it must be earlier, let me know, and I will make it happen.
I have received your baptismal certificate but have not yet
received your BA from the States. In my typewritten letters, I detailed the
papers you need for your arrival and forgot to mention your diploma from
EAPI—it is important, especially for teaching catechesis in Canada. Please try
to obtain it. If possible, could you also write a curriculum vitae within the
next month, listing your diplomas, their dates, your studies, and professional
experience? This will be essential for securing a position here. I will
distribute copies to potential employers as soon as possible. Thank you,
darling.
Your brother Raja was kind to write to me about the birth of
his daughter, Lalitha Kumari. Please congratulate him and especially your
mother. I hope to write to him next week or, if not, as soon as I am settled in
my new apartment. Even if it is not a boy, Raja should not feel unlucky; having
a little girl is wonderful, and perhaps next time it will be a boy named André
Reddy.
During this busy time, what comes to mind is not only the
image of us lying side by side in our room, but also of us walking together,
shopping and planning—being dynamic and active together. After such busy days,
I long for the peace and comfort of your presence, to rest and renew myself in
your arms, listening to music and sharing our stories, punctuated by kisses.
Angel, I cannot wait for the end of April when we will
finally be together. I hope I can give you all the happiness you deserve.
Monique remarked on how much you must love me to leave your family and country
for me. You are my strength, and I live and breathe because of you, even from
afar in India. Nive na jeevam, Na premam. I am eager to learn more Telugu to
express my love for you even more perfectly.
May each minute bring us closer. May every letter written since our separation lead us to the bridge where we will soon be reunited. Keep smiling, Angel—God loves you, and so do I. Millions of kisses.
Angel, please do not forget to write to me at Odette’s
address:
9 rue Galipeau, Hull, P.Q., Canada
Your Husband, André! PremAA!
February 10, 1970
(66)
My Angel, My beloved wife,
It is Tuesday, 12h30 PM, and I am writing to you from my new
office in Ottawa. There is so much I want to share with you.
On Saturday, I prepared my luggage—a task I am now quite
accustomed to. I had many things to move, as I wanted to bring everything with
me to this new chapter in my life.
Robert, my brother, and his wife Rachel, kindly offered to
drive to Ottawa in their car and help transport my trunks—the green one, the
brown one—and my notes.
On Sunday, as usual, I attended mass at 8h00 AM, then
assisted Robert with packing all my belongings into his car. He wanted to leave
Montreal early since he had to make the return trip the same day.
After lunch, I departed in my own car. Leaving home once
again was difficult; mother was crying, and I could see that father was also
deeply moved.
I arrived in Ottawa, or more precisely Hull, at 3h30 PM.
Odette, Rene, and Julie were waiting to welcome me.
The next morning, I began work at my new job. The people
were all very kind, and I immediately felt at home, though I also experienced
some insecurity with so many new things to learn, including the names of
agencies I will work with.
I had a long conversation with Mr. Angus Archer, the
director of the CCIC, about the nature of my work. My role involves
information-sharing and promotion of international cooperation. I will need to
join the Canadian press club and other organizations for newspapermen.
Although I felt a bit lost at first, I am confident that I
will adapt.
One important point you should know: the director told me
that I will need to travel frequently, particularly between Ottawa and
Montreal, at least one or two days each week, and also to other parts of the
country. I am unsure how to feel about this, but I am looking forward to the
day when you will be with me, as I do not want to be far from you. There is a
possibility that the CCIC could become a separate branch in Quebec province,
which might reduce the need for travel.
For now, I am staying with Odette and René, who have been
very kind, but I do not feel entirely at home. I feel like a bird on a branch,
searching for a place to settle. I am actively looking for an apartment, but
the rent is expensive—over $100 per month.
I hope to find a suitable place before the next weekend.
As I mentioned in my last letter, my mother was deeply moved
by your letter. She did not tell me directly, but Rachel and Odette confirmed
it. You have truly won her heart. I must admit, this transition has been
difficult. So many new experiences, and soon I will be living alone in my
apartment, without the help of my family. I must stand on my own, but I do it
all for you, my darling wife, whom I love infinitely.
Angel, I have not yet written to your brother, but I intend
to do so. I also have not received any letters from you—they are probably still
in Montreal. I am certain my mother will send them to me immediately, but I do
not expect to receive them before Wednesday, especially given the truck
drivers' strike affecting mail delivery in Montreal.
Angel, have you received any news from the Canadian High
Commission in New Delhi? Is it time for me to send you your plane ticket? My
darling, I long for you. Please keep smiling. God has been good to us, and I am
confident He will continue to bless us. I love you with all my heart and soul.
I send you all my love and kisses.
Your Husband, André! PremAA!
February 13, 1970
(67)
My dearest Angel, my darling and beautiful wife,
It is Friday, and I am writing to you during my lunchtime.
I hope to be able to write the usual six pages, but I am not
sure I will manage it, given all the tasks and responsibilities that my new job
with CCIC brings. Nevertheless, I will do my best to write you a long letter.
On Wednesday, I received a letter from you. It had been sent
to my family home, but my mother forwarded it to me immediately. I was
delighted to hear about your skills as a housekeeper. Angel, I have never
doubted your abilities—your resourcefulness is truly remarkable. I am very
eager to taste your delicious Indian food and hope you will cook in the Indian
style often, though I am mindful of my Canadian palate and its sensitivity to
spicy sauces.
Just now, I called my mother long distance. She is well and
told me that she wrote to you, starting in English and continuing in French. I
do not know exactly what she wrote, but she mentioned that she expressed her
hopes that we, two, will understand each
other very well. She also told me that another letter from you arrived at home
and was sent immediately here to Hull, where I am now living. I hope to receive
it when I get home tonight.
Angel, I feel terribly alone now. In fact, I feel as if I am
camping under a tent without a real home.
Odette and Rene have
been very kind and generous to me, but I am always afraid of disturbing them.
My uneasiness is heightened by the fact that I have not yet unpacked my
belongings—everything is still in suitcases and trunks.
Oh, Angel, when will we have our own home? When will we look
for an apartment to rent together? The rents are extremely high; I would have
to pay between $120 and $130 a month. Furthermore, life in Ottawa is more
expensive than in Montreal. For example, just to park my car while I am at
work, I must pay $1.50 a day. It is unfortunate, and I will not be able to save
as much as I did when living with my parents—if I can set aside $200 a month,
it will be good, compared to the $600 I was able to save in Montreal. Still, I
am glad, because the money for your air ticket is ready and waiting for you to
use.
By the way, Angel, have you received the $300 I sent to
Anasuya?
By the time you get this letter, the check should already be
in your hands. Please, my beloved, let me know as soon as you receive it. I
wish I could write many beautiful things to you, for my heart is filled with so
many emotions right now. But time is pressing. At 1h00 PM, I have a meeting
with a group of newspapermen to organize a walkathon called "Miles for
Millions" in support of developing countries. At 3h00 PM, I have an
interview with a girl, as I must hire a secretary. Then at 3h30 PM, I have
another meeting. The day will pass quickly, and soon it will be 5h00 PM, time
to go home—and hopefully, to read your letter if it has arrived.
Even on Saturday, I have work from 10h00 to 11h30 AM, and
Sunday morning there is a congress. Next week, I have to go to Montreal for
another meeting, and on the 25th to Toronto. This brings me back to the topic
mentioned in my last letter—my frequent travel for work. I hope this did not
scare you unnecessarily. I told you about the many occasions for me to travel
and suggested that you consider this aspect of my job. I do not want to leave
you alone, and I know you do not like the idea of me being away often.
Perhaps it is premature to stress this point so soon after
starting my job. It is wiser to refrain from fear and judgment for now and
simply observe what my actual responsibilities will be. Then, together, we can
decide what is best for us. Since we both know what we want and need. Is this
all right with you, darling?
Wife, I am not certain, but from your last letter I got the
impression that you want to go to New Delhi. Have you already received a
convocation from the Canadian High Commission there? If not, please wait for
their call—it should not be delayed. I am concerned that you might be applying
for a visa yourself. If you are requesting a Permanent Visa for Canada, it is
fine with me, because that is what I am requesting for you here. I believe my
channel might be faster and you would receive your visa more quickly, but we
shall see. I have full confidence that everything will arrive on time.
If my laicization comes soon, I will need to call or write
to Montreal to inform them of my current address, so that any news will be sent
to me here in Ottawa immediately. I also need to review other paperwork, such
as our insurance policies. When I was teaching at the college, we had a good
insurance policy for both of us; if I died before you, it would have provided
you with $20,000 and covered hospital bills if needed. Now that I have left the
college, I must review these matters and obtain a new insurance policy for both
of us and for our future children. This time, it will be more expensive than
the previous policy, but I believe it is worthwhile. Therefore, this week I
will contact my agent and revise everything.
As you can see from the change of ink color and my style of
writing, I had to pause and am now continuing. It is Saturday morning, and I am
in the kitchen with Odette. I just finished washing and the laundry is in the
dryer. Julie is riding her tricycle around. It is 8h30 AM, and I would like
very much to finish my usual six pages before 9h30 AM, when I must return to
Ottawa for a congress. I should be there at 10h00 AM, as I mentioned before.
Yesterday, Friday, I had hoped to mail you this letter, but work kept me busy.
I see now that it will be more difficult for me to keep to my usual Friday
schedule for long letters. But do not worry, my beloved—I will not miss this
rendez-vous with you. If I cannot mail it on Friday, I will do so on Saturday.
Hopefully, this will be the exception, as I plan to start my Friday long letter
as soon as I mail my Tuesday aerogram to you.
Outside, the weather is very cold—many degrees below zero. I
hope you will not suffer from the cold when you arrive in Canada. There will be
no problem indoors, as you know, but I wonder about going outside. Walking
through the streets of Ottawa, I have already seen many Indian men and women. I
have not had the opportunity to ask them how they manage the Canadian winter,
but as I see them, dressed as warmly as all other Canadians, they seem to cope
well.
Yesterday, when I returned home, I found a letter from India
waiting for me. I thought it was from you, but it was from Anasuya. Of course,
I was glad, but also a little sad—I love Anasuya very much, but I would have
preferred a letter from you, or ideally, two letters: one from you and one from
Anasuya. In her letter, Anasuya told me about your stay with her at her home
and how much you both enjoyed your time together. She mentioned one of her
friends, perhaps her boyfriend, who is supposed to write to me. Anasuya said
that you had a long talk with him about religious matters and other topics.
It is funny, but when I read this, I felt a mix of
emotions—a little fear, a little jealousy, a little insecurity, knowing you
spoke alone to another man. Upon reflection, I realize that I love you for who
you are, not for myself. When you are happy, I must also be happy, for my goal
is to make you happy. Sometimes, your happiness may conflict with my own
desires, but my feelings are not as important. I do not want to make a tragedy
out of this, for I have complete confidence in you—you have given me so many
proofs of your love. Still, sometimes strange thoughts come to mind, and since
I promised to tell you everything, I share this with you too. There is
absolutely no reason to make mountains out of this.
I felt sad when I read in your letter about the convents.
Please, darling, try to minimize the gossip about them around you. Charity and
love must come first. Do what you can. It is difficult for me to organize my
thoughts right now—Julie is crying, showing she has strong lungs! Odette has
gone out, which is why Julie is upset.
Returning to Anasuya's letter, I was glad that for the first
time she addressed me as "Dear brother." She also wrote about one
evening when you both spoke about me until late at night. It makes me very
happy to know that you have a confidant in Anasuya. Angel, she is truly a
wonderful person, not selfish at all. She feels sad that you are coming to
Canada soon, but she is still willing to make the sacrifice so you can go. I
appreciate and understand her feelings even more because of this.
As for your brother, I have not had time to write to him to
congratulate him and his wife on their baby. Will you become the godmother of
this little girl, or perhaps another baby born in your family? How I wish I
could be by your side to be the godfather to this child!
Angel, it is already 9h15 AM, and I will not be able to
write a sixth page. I must go, and I feel so sad and lonely—like someone
starting a long journey through a dark forest, alone. But one day, very soon,
we will be united.
Angel, I hope you have already received what you asked from
me—the affidavits and money, which are with Anasuya. If you have not heard from
her, please write to her. When you get everything, including news about your
passport and visa, write to me immediately. I am anxious to receive good news.
Angel, Na premam, I love you. I should write "Nive Na
premam" millions of times all over my letter, but it would not compare to
what I intend to say and do to show you my love when we are finally reunited
forever.
René, Odette, and Julie send their love to you. As for
myself, I send my love and affection to your parents, brothers, sister, and all
your family. Angel, keep smiling and be my adorable wife. God is good to us—let
us thank Him. I hope to receive your long letters next week.
Angel, receive my kisses and embrace. Let us be one; I am
longing for you, crazy about you.
Your Husband, André
Angel,
Nive Na Premam, Jeevam, Servam infinitely.
February 17, 1970
(68)
Na premam, jeevam, Angel,
It is Tuesday morning, and I have even more news to share
with you. I am eagerly hoping that very soon I will receive a wonderful letter
from you, telling me that you have obtained your new passport and that the
Canadian Embassy has reached out to you and granted you your visa. I also hope
to receive news of my laicization as soon as possible. Once these obstacles are
removed, we will be able to plan our official wedding, and it will feel like
heaven to finally be together.
Angel Darling, I have another big update to share: I have
found an apartment. On Sunday, I moved in, and last night I slept there for the
first time. The apartment is not far from Odette’s place, so I will often be
able to have supper with Odette and René. Odette has even kindly offered to
wash my clothes for me. Our families truly are wonderful and supportive.
My new apartment is in Hull, not Ottawa, but it is only a
20-minute drive from my workplace. This is a significant improvement compared
to the long commute I had between Montreal and St. Jérôme during my last
teaching session. I am happy to have moved because I can now organize my own
life as I anxiously wait for you to join me.
Last night, before going to bed, I placed your photo in the
golden frame on my desk. Do you remember it? The moment felt solemn to me
because I became deeply aware that soon, your picture will be replaced by
you—my wife, in body, heart, and soul. It will be a wonderful moment. This
morning, as I woke up, my eyes once again went to your picture. I felt a mix of
sadness and joy, knowing that I am taking another step toward our reunion.
I want to describe more about the place where I am living,
but I will save those details for my long letter on Friday. The apartment is
not luxurious—it consists of a bedroom, a small living room, a kitchen, and a
toilet room. Despite being the cheapest available, it is quite expensive at
$125 per month.
My plan is to stay in this apartment until your arrival.
Once you are here, we will decide together where we want to live and possibly
move if that is better for us.
Tomorrow, I will likely go to Montreal and stay there until
next Sunday. I will send my next letter from Montreal, although I may wait
until Monday due to the mailmen’s strike in Montreal. If needed, I will mail
the letter from Ottawa, where there is no strike, so you receive it faster.
Fortunately, I hope you have already started sending your letters to Odette’s
place and now directly to me at my new address in Hull. You will find my new
address on the back of this aerogram.
Angel, I am counting the minutes and days until we meet
again. Please let me know if you have received the affidavits and money, and if
you have begun the process for your passport. Also, let me know when you want
me to purchase your ticket from Air India; I will need to go to Montreal for
this, as there is no Air India agency in Ottawa, but it will not be a problem.
My beautiful wife, I am currently preparing a special gift
for you that has been long awaited. You shall receive it within one month. I
send you millions of kisses and eternal embraces. Please give my respects to
your parents.
Your Husband forever, André!
February 19, 1970
(69-1)
My beloved Angel, my beautiful wife and precious bride,
This Friday finds me back at my parents’ home for a few
days, having arrived on Wednesday afternoon. As I mentioned in my aerogram, I
returned for a meeting that same evening, which was organized to prepare for a
congress in Montreal preceding the World Food Congress scheduled for June in
Belgium.
Yesterday, Thursday, I made several contacts in Montreal, as
one of my main professional priorities is to become known in various circles,
especially those connected to public relations. That afternoon, I attended a
few interviews in search of a competent secretary—someone equally fluent in
French and English. This search has proven difficult. There is one candidate I
met in Ottawa on Tuesday afternoon, but she seems rather moody and has a
peculiar character. I have not yet decided whether to hire her.
This morning, I am working from home, preparing French information
material for the "Miles for Millions" campaign, which raises funds
for developing countries. I have a deadline to meet by Monday at work. How I
wish you were here by my side, for you could help me greatly with these
international cooperation matters. Darling, you would be the perfect secretary
for me—except for French, though that obstacle could be overcome in a few
months. Perhaps, in the future, you might even become my official secretary.
Today, I will remain home to work on the materials I must produce, and I plan
to return to Ottawa on Sunday afternoon.
Na Premam, when I arrived home, I found a long letter from
you waiting for me. It filled me with joy, but also sadness because you could
not participate in your mother’s village fiesta. I am proud of your mature
response to her wishes. I am angry about your uncle’s behavior—never be alone
with him, as you rightly say. He is not to be trusted. It is good to stay
distant from this father Raj, though remain polite.
I hope by now you have received the money sent to Anasuya’s
name and the affidavit. That is all I can send. As for the governmental forms
you requested, I do not know what they are; perhaps they will come from New
Delhi, where my application as your respondent should be. I hope there will be
no delay in communicating with you.
Regarding my laicization, there is no news yet. My case must
be in Rome, and we must wait patiently. However, next Monday or Tuesday, I will
call the chancellery from Ottawa to update them with my new address and inquire
about the status of my case.
This morning, I received an answer from Salve Regina
College. They sent an unofficial copy of your grades from 1964 to 1968, but not
your diploma. They assured me that it would be sent later, as it is being
printed along with those for this year’s graduates. Your name is listed
correctly, addressed to Miss Bala Theresamma Singareddy, c/o Andre Gingras. No
mention of “sister.”
Something in your last letter saddened me—the thought that I
may feel obliged to marry you. Darling, let me dispel that thought with
countless kisses. It is not because you left the sisterhood for me or any other
reason that I wish to marry you. I marry you because you are my “Thou,” my
complement. I marry you because you are yourself—now and always. Not because
you are Indian, or because you were a nun, but because of your uniqueness. I
marry you because I love you. Is that clear? I know you feel the same way about
me.
When I returned home Wednesday, my mother showed me the
letter she wrote to you. She had not sent it yet because she could not read
your address well, so she asked me to write it on the envelope. She wrote the
letter in French, and it is very touching. She accepts you wholeheartedly and
even wrote a special paragraph to your parents, assuring them she will care for
you when you are in Canada. I hope you can understand the letter and not be
bothered by any spelling mistakes—my mother did not finish elementary school,
but she writes quite well.
Last night, I visited Monique, Jacques, and Marie Christine.
Marie Christine is adorable. In Hull, Julie is also very charming, and we have
become good friends. I even babysat for her last Saturday so Odette and René
could go to the movies. Since receiving your last letter, I have not met Odette
and René in Montreal, but they will be eager to hear your thoughts about their
photo. I am sure René will be delighted to know he resembles an Indian, and
Odette as well. Odette often wonders if you look like the Indian women she sees
in Ottawa, and I always reply, “Yes, but better”—and it is true.
In my last aerogram, I mentioned a few things about my
apartment. Now, I will continue. The apartment is in the basement of a home,
with a private entrance below the porch of the main door. To enter, you first
pass through the kitchen. I think it is best to describe the apartment:
·
Kitchen: Contains an electronic stove,
refrigerator, table, and three chairs.
·
Living Room: Furnished with a chesterfield, a
big lazy boy, a small coffee table, and a TV (our TV).
·
Bedroom: Features a large bed for two
people—though I am alone for now, I pray it is only for two months—a desk and
chair.
It is not luxurious, but it has everything I need, most
importantly, my privacy—and our future privacy. When I am alone, I am truly
with you in thought, imagining what you would do or say in different
situations. Each minute brings us closer together.
Sometimes, Angel, I look at myself in the mirror and think
about my age, a little worried that when we meet again, you might find me
changed, older, and not the Andre you knew in the Philippines. My hair is
thinning, and wrinkles are appearing. Maybe these changes reflect what has
happened inside me. Will you recognize me? I feel our meeting at the airport
will be so important. For me, you will not have changed—you will be the same,
but even better. My love for you remains the same and has grown in quality during
our separation.
Women at thirty are at the height of their womanhood, as a
popular French song says. I, however, will soon be thirty-six. I do not feel
old—my body and mind are younger than many young people—but will you find me
young enough? You have never raised this topic, though it concerns our
children. Would you tell me if you ever felt I was too old for you, or if, upon
arriving at the airport, you had doubts about our wedding and happiness? If so,
do not be afraid; I would be understanding. Though it would sadden me deeply, I
would give you the chance to return to India. My happiness is your
happiness—remember this always. If you want me to be happy, be happy yourself,
even if that means leaving me behind.
I do not know how I came to tell you all this—it is simply
my honest thoughts. I wish to be an open book for you, as you are for me. Do
not worry if you ever experience periods of silence from me; I will always
write twice a week, as I have done. I have not yet written to your brother, but
I will do so next week, and will also write to Anasuya, who kindly called me
brother in her last letter.
Please give my regards to your father, mother, sister, and
brothers. In your next letter, let me know if you received the money,
affidavits, and the letters from Monique, Jacques, and my mother. Tell me
exactly what you have done about your passport and other documents, and whether
you have begun buying saris for your trip.
Angel, my princess, my jewel, my wife, I place my life in
your hands—it is yours. Take it and do with it as you please. I am yours
forever, as you are mine. We are one heart, one mind, and one body. Let us
thank the Lord for the gift of our love. I send you sweet and passionate
kisses, embracing you fiercely.
Your Husband forever, André! PremAA!
February 24, 1970
(69-2)
Tuesday night, 9h10 pm. I wanted to write to you today and
mail this letter before leaving Ottawa, but it was impossible due to a lot of
work and no free time throughout the day.
Currently, I am working on a publicity kit for a Canadian campaign
called "Miles for Millions"— in French, "Rallye Tiers
Monde." Throughout Canada in May, agencies for international cooperation
organize walks where people participate, and sponsors contribute money for each
mile walked. The funds raised go to developing countries. The first year of
this walk was in 1967, and most of the money went to our homeland, India,
specifically the state of Bihar. The kit is nearly complete, and tomorrow I
will send everything to the printing house.
I am also preparing for another project: a conference staged
in Montreal by the Food and Agriculture Organization at the end of April, as
part of a World Congress against Hunger. My responsibilities include preparing
for this conference, which is why I went to Montreal last weekend and will
return next Monday. The opportunity to go home is welcome, and Mother and
Father are very happy about it.
Angel, I hope you have already received Mother's letter. I
want to repeat—it is a lovely letter. Additionally, I received a lot of
feedback from my other brothers and sisters regarding Mother's reaction to your
words. You have truly won her over. She loves you very much. Although she did
not tell me directly, she expressed it to Monique and wrote to Odette. Rachel
also sensed the same feeling from Mother. It is wonderful! We are all eagerly
waiting for you, and I am longing for your arrival.
Angel, have you received any news from New Delhi? What is
the status of your passport? Perhaps your last letter contains good news, but
it has not reached me yet. This week, I have not received anything from you.
Since Sunday, I have not visited Odette. Every day, I return directly from work
to my apartment. Odette and René always welcome me, but I do not want to
intrude on their privacy. I understand that when we are together, I will desire
the same privacy for us.
Because of this, I have not visited Odette, but I call her
every day to ask about your letters, which should be sent to Hull, not yet to
my apartment. Tomorrow, Wednesday, I will visit them, hoping that a letter from
you will be waiting for me.
I do not know how Joe Hubert obtained his laicization so
quickly; perhaps he did not request it and simply got married. If he achieved
it so fast, I am happy for him. Regarding us, as I mentioned in my last letter,
I will contact the chancellery this week to provide my new address and inquire
about updates.
Last week, Time magazine featured a principal article
discussing why priests and nuns are quitting. It was a very good article.
Apparently, there are around 10,000 requests for laicization pending in Rome.
Reading this news was a little depressing because so many are waiting. However,
I quickly resolved my feelings. We have done everything we could, and I am
confident that the Lord will continue to help us, just as He has since our
first meeting.
To be honest, I feel very lonely in my apartment. Even in a
crowd, and even among my family members, I feel terribly alone because you are
not here. But I hold on to hope — again.
Angel, how is your family? Your brothers and sister? I have
not written to your brother yet as promised, but I will do so before the end of
this week.
I will stop here. If I have not written an aerogram, it is
because my aerograms are in my office. I forgot them, but I am glad for this,
as it gave me the opportunity to write more and make you happier.
Angel, my pretty wife, after finishing this letter I will go
straight to bed. I feel very tired today and hope to dream about you. May my
dreams be a rehearsal for the manifestation of my love for you—all sweetness,
all attention, all tenderness, a manly love, all protection, all care.
Angel, I cover you with my most passionate kisses in an
eternal, long embrace.
Your Husband, André! Until death, yours forever!
Nive Na Premam! Na
Jeevam ! Na Servam! Na
Anandam - I do not know the meaning of
this word. Does it mean “Husband”? - Can
I add: “Na Thodu”?
February 28, 1970
(70)
My wife forever, my princess, my darling Angel,
It is Saturday morning, and I plan to mail this letter as
soon as I finish writing it. Yesterday, I did not have a single moment to pause
and compose a long letter. I returned from work at 6h00 PM, then went to Odette
and René’s for supper, and came back home quite late.
The day before, I received your aerogram dated February
18th. Your words stirred mixed feelings within me. I felt a deep sadness upon
reading about your mood. Regarding my laicization and the comparison to
Joe-Gilbert’s situation, I must say I do not like making such comparisons.
First, we cannot even be certain that Joe was laicized; personally, I have my
doubts. Therefore, my love, let us focus solely on our own situation.
Otherwise, we risk becoming bitter, impatient, and nervous, and eventually, we may
fall ill from the strain.
To update you, the inquiry into my laicization request is
now complete. All the necessary papers have been sent to Rome. I know this for
certain, as two days ago, at the same time I received your aerogram, I also
received a letter from the provincial house of the Jesuits of Canada. They
informed me that they had to pay a $250 fee to the chancellery in
Montreal—almost like a lawyer’s fee—and implied I should reimburse them. They
also confirmed that my case has been properly processed here and is now in Rome’s
hands. You see, Angel, we have done everything possible; now, all that remains
is to wait.
I wish you could see me in person to understand how tired I
am from all of this. I am almost disgusted by how difficult it is for those who
try to abide by the law, while others seem to face no problems at all. Then,
there is the bill from the Montreal chancellery, and later, likely one from
Rome—always more money. While I am not concerned about money and will pay back
the Jesuits when I am able, I cannot help but feel some bitterness inside. I
try to stick to principles of higher value: my love for you, my love for the
Lord through you, and the responsibility to avoid scandalizing my family. I
strive to speak kindly and keep bitterness out of my heart.
Now, about your bishop. I respect him greatly, and you
clearly care for him, but I really dislike how he interferes in our affairs. He
is not God. He refuses to give you the paper confirming no impediment to
marriage until he hears I have been laicized. That is his choice, though
objectively he has no right, since there is no actual impediment on your side.
If he refuses, it is solely because of me. It is so sad, my love.
This paper remains important one way or another, you must
obtain an attestation of your freedom to marry, preferably from your parish
priest with the parish stamp. After your meeting with the bishop, will you feel
comfortable requesting this paper? Perhaps now everyone knows about the
bishop’s reaction; if you cannot get the paper from the church, could you
obtain it from civil authorities instead?
I am so insistent on this because, if I am not laicized by
the time you arrive (still expected at the end of April or beginning of May),
we must produce proof of marriage within 30 days of your arrival, or you risk
deportation to India. Therefore, we may need a secret civil marriage to secure
this paper while we wait for my laicization and the real marriage. This is
something your bishop cannot comprehend. He cannot imagine the depth of our
love, and this is why he asks you not to come before my laicization. There are
other reasons for you to come then: it is the best time to find a job, the best
time to adjust to Canada, the beginning of summer, and a good time to get to
know my family.
If only I could receive my laicization by the time you
arrive, all these problems would disappear. Let us keep hope alive. Hope always
goes with love.
One last thing regarding this: please keep private the part
where your bishop advised you to wait for my laicization before coming to
Canada. Others around you should not learn about this, as they may use the
bishop’s advice as an obstacle to your coming. I hope no one else knows.
Regarding your reaction to the traveling nature of my work:
after I wrote about this in my 64th letter, I realized the way I expressed
myself was a mistake—not in my commitment to always be honest with you, but in
projecting hypothetical scenarios for the future. My next letter addressed the
matter more accurately, I hope. Please do not be sad or make a mountain out of
a molehill. As I have said before, we know what we want—we want to be together,
and that is what matters most. When we are clear on our goals, we can usually
achieve them. Therefore, let us carefully evaluate whether the travel required
by my job fits our desires. If not, we will find another solution. It is a
deal, Angel. Please, do not be sad or cry.
Regarding your passport and visa, has New Delhi contacted
you following a letter from you, or did they do so after my application from
Canada? This was not entirely clear in your letter, but I understood that you
wrote first to the Canadian High Commission. Next week, I will write again to
the Montreal Immigration office and to New Delhi. If you have not received any
news yet, always mention my application number: B 240199, submitted in Montreal
on January 30, 1970. I have already given you this number on a typed sheet.
However, let us wait a couple more weeks. Here, too, let us remain hopeful and
patient. We are now in the most difficult part of our reunion process—having
done all that we could, we must now endure the bureaucratic procedures between
Rome, Ottawa, and New Delhi.
We have obtained the affidavits, and I hope they are in
order. By now, I also hope you have received the money. Please write to me as
soon as you do. I am very surprised not to have heard anything about the small
tape I sent for your birthday. It was a little plastic box, made especially for
mailing. Is it possible that the Indian government checks tapes? I know that in
Taiwan, it was impossible to receive tapes without government approval. Please
tell me when you receive it.
It is unfortunate to have to endure another strike. I am
anxious, as I have not received a letter from you since the 20th, when a major
strike was supposed to take place in India. Here, the postal workers are also
making demands, threatening to strike if they are not met, but the situation is
not as bad as in India, and I doubt mail will stop. Let us pray that mail
service continues, especially at this time when we need to stay in contact as
much as possible.
These days, I feel strange—almost as if I am living in a
cloud, detached from everything, my head high above the crowds and my feet far
below, barely touching the ground. Angel, you are my ground, my base, my
reality. I am not overly troubled by these feelings because I know this is how
things must be. I cannot be whole when half of myself is not here. Before I
knew you, I felt a similar sense of division within myself, but I accepted it
as part of life’s mystery. Then you came, and for the first time I felt whole,
more integrated, truly myself because I had found in you the other half of my
being. Before I knew you, life was difficult but not painful; now that you are
in India, it is difficult and painful, but also full of happiness, because it
is Advent—it will soon be Christmas, and because it is Lent—it will soon be
Easter. Yes, Angel, our near future will be wonderful!
One more thing about your letter: do not worry about
teaching catechetics when you come to Canada. We will find a job that you
enjoy. That is a small problem to discuss when we are finally reunited forever.
I was only mentioning possibilities. Tomorrow, Sunday, I will drive to Montreal
and will have a chance to tell Monique and Jacques about your reaction to their
letter. I will be back by Tuesday morning and will try to bring Mother with me.
Odette would love to have her visit, and she can return to Montreal by bus that
evening.
Dearest Angel, let us be joyful and thankful to the Lord for
our love and our life together. Keep smiling. I love you! I hope your next
letter brings good news, and I hope to send you good news as well. I kiss you
with emotion and passion a million times. Come, Angel, let us be one.
Your Husband, who loves you so much,
André, PremAA!
P.S.: Darling, do not laugh at me! but I have a feeling your last letter was written during your menstruation. I have always noticed you are more sensitive and prone to tears during that time. Am I right? Nive Na Prema! keep smiling!
