Aurelia Plath
February 4, 1963
Sivvy catalogs
her future, writes that friends will
visit, and she has
summer travel plans,
work on the BBC. She
admits she’s grim as
London rain. That her
marriage is dead as winter trees.
But I dare not fret,
Dr. Horder found
her a therapist, prescribed
her new pills. Things will
improve. By spring we’ll
giggle over this winter’s
cold. Things will be fine.
I balance myself, one
hand on the frosty windowpane.
Something in Sivvy’s letter
knocks out my breath.
My lungs can’t hold air, my exhales
don’t register on the window’s glass.
The letter dated February 4, 1963, is the last included in Letters Home. While not exactly chipper, the letter does discuss Sylvia’s plans for the next several months as though things were improving for her. The letter ends: “I am going to start seeing a woman doctor, which should help me weather this difficult time. Give my love to all. Sivvy.”