Tr\u00e8s cher monsieur Andr\u00e9\u00a0G., je ne vous oublie pas. Vous \u00eates d\u2019ailleurs dans ma t\u00eate chaque matin depuis que j\u2019ai lu votre courageux commentaire concernant la lettre publi\u00e9e le dimanche\u00a021\u00a0mai, intitul\u00e9e LETTRE \u00c0 MOI-M\u00caME.<\/p>\n
J\u2019ai vraiment besoin que vous me pardonniez. Depuis que j\u2019ai commenc\u00e9 l\u2019\u00e9criture du dimanche, en pleine pand\u00e9mie, pour conforter nos pr\u00e9cieux clients, mes doigts pianotant sur un clavier sont devenus plus bavards que des pies.<\/p>\n
Apr\u00e8s avoir parl\u00e9 de nourriture, de jolies assiettes et de multiples recettes de cuisine, j\u2019ai continu\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9crire sur l\u2019entreprise, les employ\u00e9s, l\u2019expansion des restaurants, le courage, la cr\u00e9ativit\u00e9 et l\u2019audace d\u2019exister. Comme je d\u00e9sirais continuer \u00e0 \u00e9crire, j\u2019ai plong\u00e9 t\u00eate premi\u00e8re dans un oc\u00e9an de possibilit\u00e9s. Oui, oui! Maux \u00e0 mots, j\u2019ai voulu me raconter, parler de mon enfance, de mes parents, de mes espoirs de jeune fille et des quelques d\u00e9ceptions que la gueuse de vie avait d\u00e9cid\u00e9 de m\u2019octroyer.<\/p>\n
Je vous remercie, cher monsieur Andr\u00e9\u00a0G., de me dire que vous aimez me lire et que cette lecture fait partie de votre routine dominicale. Vous ajoutez, et je vous cite mot \u00e0 mot\u00a0: \u00ab\u00a0Toutefois, madame Cora, savez-vous que les hommes, dont plusieurs sont aussi vos lecteurs, ne sont pas tous m\u00e9chants? J\u2019ai parfois le sentiment que vous les \u00e9valuez comme tels. Il y a de bons hommes aussi, des hommes aimants, aimables. Il y a de bons p\u00e8res de famille, doux et protecteurs. Ne nous oubliez pas.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
Mon c\u0153ur pleure en vous lisant. \u00c0 19\u00a0ans, j\u2019ai mari\u00e9 le mauvais gars et il m\u2019a bris\u00e9e. Il a d\u00e9truit la jeune femme aimante que j\u2019\u00e9tais. Ce carnage matrimonial a dur\u00e9 13\u00a0longues ann\u00e9es avant que je puisse m\u2019enfuir. Sans secours, sans argent ni p\u00e8re, mes enfants et moi avons pourtant surv\u00e9cu.<\/p>\n
Ne vous est-il jamais arriv\u00e9 de trouver une chenille destructrice dans un chou? Les d\u00e9g\u00e2ts apparaissent d\u00e8s les premiers r\u00e9chauffements. J\u2019\u00e9tais, \u00e0 cette \u00e9poque, une jeune intellectuelle encore ignorante des choses de la vie. Et qu\u2019aurais-je pu faire? J\u2019avais d\u00e9j\u00e0 sa semence dans mon ventre. Il a voulu expulser le f\u0153tus et j\u2019ai d\u00fb verser toutes les larmes de mon corps pour garder l\u2019enfant.<\/p>\n
Je vous le jure, cher Andr\u00e9, je ne d\u00e9teste pas les hommes. Mais lorsqu\u2019un tsunami arrive dans une jeune vie, la reconstruction est beaucoup plus lente que la d\u00e9molition. On cherche d\u2019abord une rive s\u00e9curitaire, un travail pour nourrir ses marmots et plus tard, beaucoup plus tard dans l\u2019\u00e9chelle de l\u2019oubli, on recommence \u00e0 r\u00eaver \u00e0 l\u2019amour. L\u2019amour m\u00fbri, l\u2019amour tranquille, l\u2019amour solide et l\u2019amour en habits de tous les jours.<\/p>\n
J\u2019en r\u00eave moi aussi, surtout maintenant que j\u2019en ai le temps. M\u00eame les enfants de mes enfants m\u2019en parlent \u00e0 l\u2019occasion; ils me souhaitent tous de trouver un gentil compagnon et je refuse de passer mon tour. Oui, oui! Je cherche un c\u0153ur bienveillant, un artiste des fleurs, un conteur, un vieux philosophe capable de m\u2019amadouer, un veuf qui a aim\u00e9. Mon c\u0153ur pourrait-il reprendre la route? J\u2019avance et je cherche la mappemonde des hommes au c\u0153ur libre; aimables et aimants, doux et protecteurs.<\/p>\n
Encag\u00e9s dans leurs silences respectifs, mes parents n\u2019ont jamais pu me d\u00e9montrer l\u2019exemple d\u2019un bel amour. Dites-moi, cher Andr\u00e9, o\u00f9 sont ces hommes courageux et valeureux, ces bons maris qui ont perdu leurs amantes? O\u00f9 se cachent-ils? O\u00f9 qu\u2019ils soient, en cet heureux dimanche, de tout mon c\u0153ur, je leur souhaite la plus belle f\u00eate des P\u00e8res! Je loue leur courage, leur audace et leur amour des enfants.<\/p>\n
Tr\u00e8s cher papa d\u2019amour, pour moi comme pour toi l\u00e0-haut, je demande aux anges une immense faveur, une seconde chance. Une bienheureuse fa\u00e7on de nous r\u00e9incarner chacun dans un mariage heureux.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2665\u2665\u2665<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tr\u00e8s cher monsieur Andr\u00e9\u00a0G., je ne vous oublie pas. Vous \u00eates d\u2019ailleurs […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":23917,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-23916","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"Dear Andr\u00e9 G., I haven\u2019t forgotten about you. You\u2019re on my mind every morning since I read the heartfelt comment you left in response to my May 21 letter entitled LETTER TO MYSELF.\r\n\r\nPlease do forgive me. Since I\u2019ve started writing these Sunday letters at the beginning of the pandemic to comfort our dear customers, my fingers have become chatterboxes.\r\n\r\nAfter talking about food, tempting dishes and multiple culinary recipes, I continued writing about the business, our employees and the expansion of the restaurant chain, courage, creativity and the audacity to live. I lunged head-first into a sea of possibilities because I wanted to keep writing. I let my struggles become words and then full sentences to tell my story, talk about my childhood, my parents, the hopes and dreams I had as a young girl and the few disappointments life bestowed upon me.\r\n\r\nThank you, dear Andr\u00e9 G., for telling me that you enjoy reading me and that my letters are part of your Sunday routine. You add, and I quote (translated from the French): \u201cAlthough, Madame Cora, did you know that men, including many of your readers, are not all mean? I sometimes get the feeling that you think of them as such. There are good men too; men who are loving and kind. There are good fathers out there, gentle and protective. Don\u2019t forget about us.\u201d\r\n\r\nMy heart weeps as I read your words. At 19, I married the wrong fellow and he broke my spirit. He destroyed the young, loving woman I was. The matrimonial carnage lasted 13 long years before I could finally escape. Without any help, money and or father, my children and I still managed to survive.\r\n\r\nHave you ever found a harmful worm in a cabbage? Its damage appears as soon as the weather warms. At that time, I was a young thinker who was still ignorant of the facts of life. What could I have done? I already had his seed planted in me. He wanted to get rid of the fetus, and I had to cry every last tear I had in order to keep the child.\r\n\r\nIn all honesty, dear Andr\u00e9, I don\u2019t hate men. But when a tsunami crushes a young life, the rebuilding takes a lot longer than the demolition. First, you look for a safe shore, work to feed the kids and later, much later once time has dulled the memories, you dream of finding love again. A love that is mature, peaceful and solid; a love dressed in comfortable, everyday clothes.\r\n\r\nI dream of finding such a love, especially now that I have the time. Even my grandchildren tease me about it on occasion; they want me to find a good companion, and I refuse to give up. Really! I\u2019m looking for a kind heart, a flower artiste, a storyteller, an old philosopher capable of coaxing me close, a widower who once loved. Could my heart set out on that road again? I advance, searching the world for men with eligible hearts \u2013 kind and loving, gentle and protective.\r\n\r\nPrisoner of their respective silence, my parents were never able to be a model of great love. Tell me, dear Andr\u00e9, where are these brave men, these good husbands who have lost their lovers? Where are they hiding? Wherever they are, on this happy Sunday, with all my heart, I wish them the most wonderful Father\u2019s Day! I praise their courage and their love of children.\r\n\r\nDearest Dad, for my own sake and for yours up there, I beg the angels for a huge favour: a second chance. A blissful way for both of us to be reincarnated so we might each find a happy marriage.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2665\u2665\u2665"},"yoast_head":"\n