My good Kietz!
I was much troubled by your birthday congratulations on the anniversary of Napoleon's death (May 5), when (even if somewhat ironically) you didn't do it last year until the 22nd. It would be all right with me if you had congratulated me on the anniversary of my death, then things would be just as I want them.
Since my last return things have become increasingly gloomy with us: despair and desolation on all sides. The worst was that during the second half of the winter my wife had an aggravated and sustained relapse of an old ailment which finally became unbearable for her and those around her. It turns out to be a seriously aggravated heart ailment against which decisive steps finally had to be taken. For the last three weeks she has been under the care of an excellent hydropath a few hours from Zürich who has already treated similar cases successfully. We're hoping for an improvement and are seeking to check the progress of the disease. I visit her frequently and am in Brestenberg today for a visit. While she is taking a sitzbath, I'm writing to you so that you'll hear something from me again.
Things have gone badly with my work so far: the sufferings, tortures, and cares were always great and robbed my spirit of any freedom. Now I'm all alone in my little cottage: even my neighbors—the Wesendoncks—are away. But a week ago I welcomed a dear guest into the house, the magnificent grand piano which Madame Erard gave me. I play a lot on it and am now able to work again. This shall—if it succeeds—enable me to forget everything: I must rely on my art alone.
I'm thinking of sending my wife to Germany for diversion in the fall; then I'll presumably go to Paris, to stay there for the winter, so we'll have a long time to see much of each other. But I'm not counting on successes in Paris at all; I'm not looking for anything, and they won't look for me either. So it is—as usual!
We sometimes think of adopting a child; I feel that this would be a good thing, especially for my wife. Now it occurs to me that we could adopt you: for you are and remain a real child. In spite of your advanced age, you would be the best fulfillment of our wish; and I'm suggesting to you in all seriousness, if it should at some time suit you, to make your home with us for good; be our house and family companion and so remain. . . . Think it over! If you accept, you can start immediately: you are always welcome. All the rest is easy to arrange: you count as a regular member of the family.
Goodbye for today! Take what I told you seriously. I have to decide one way or the other now; your acceptance would result in something better and more bearable.
My wife sends you her very best regards from her sitzbath! Give my regards to Lindemann, to whom I sincerely apologize for my disagreeable behavior when I left.
Let me hear some good news from you soon!
Your
R. W.
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner: The Burrell Collection, ed. John N. Burk (Macmillan, 1950), No. 178