Churchill lived with his wife Clementine for 57 years. He loved her. Loved very much. He was a difficult man; it was not easy to live with him. He smoked cigars in bed and wore his pyjamas and tablespoons. He drank, unfortunately.
I even drank, I could say. He experienced rises and falls, he fought, fell and rose. He was intolerable in communication and sometimes didn’t even hear what he was being told – he didn’t physically hear. I only heard myself.
He was not very attractive and did not play sports. But he loved his wife immensely and could not live without her. Sometimes I didn’t hear or listen to her.
And Clementine found a way out: she didn't cry and argue. She wrote a message to her husband. The letters. In which with love he asked, corrected, supported, or inclined to one or another correct action. And sometimes she put a heart at the end of her message – like we are on the net.
Churchill was reading. changed for the better. He was very supported by these letters. In this way, he avoided scandals and quarrels. They never fought. And he never betrayed his wife, although before the wedding he was a fan of girls and ladies.
He loved her for 57 years. Then he died of old age. Clementine was alone. She didn’t have to live – she just said she wanted to her beloved husband. There is no need for her to live. Then she began to rewrite his manuscripts. And her gaze fell on the words written by his hand – she realized that they were written for her personally.
It’s a response to her thoughts, to her grief and pain of loss. From that light he supported her and inspired her with the strength to live. So she recognised those words, which seemed to have been read again. That was the answer to her thoughtful question: “What to do and why live on?”
She heard the voice of her beloved husband through the letters: “Never give up – never, never, never, neither in the big, nor in the small, nor in the big, nor in the small, never give up, unless it is contrary to honour and common sense. Never surrender to force, never surrender to the obviously superior power of your opponent.”
She ordered all his papers and handed down all his inheritance. Then she quietly went to him, doing her job. To the one she loved so much. And who after death answered her and supported her. And explained how to live on...
All of his letters began with the words “My dear, gentle cat Clem...”
The son of the head of the hydrometeorological center was 32-35, in fact, 28 years old, by feelings - 23 years old. The place is daughter.