War & Peace Quote by Eydie Gorme

The glamour of a touring life collapses here into something blunt and domestic: a new mother, a suitcase, and an ocean of silence between payphones. Eydie Gorme isn’t romanticizing separation; she’s documenting the emotional cost of a mid-century arrangement that treated women’s resilience as a default setting. The line “we really couldn’t be separated that much” lands like a private rule she didn’t know she’d need until the world broke it anyway. It’s devotion, yes, but it’s also a quiet protest against a system that assumes love can be put on hold while duty and work keep moving.

The detail work matters: “the phone calls and all of that” is doing heavy lifting. It shrinks a whole era of long-distance marriage into logistics and ritual - waiting, dialing, listening for a voice that may or may not come through. That vagueness (“all of that”) is a tell; she’s skirting the full inventory of loneliness because naming it precisely would make it too real, too consuming.

Context sharpens the stakes. Her husband is “in the Army,” a phrase that carries both patriotic legitimacy and institutional indifference. Meanwhile she’s “traveling and working alone,” the sentence refusing to frame her career as a distraction from motherhood, but as another obligation stacked onto it. Ending on “I really was very depressed” is almost startlingly unvarnished for a performer trained to polish pain into song. It’s not melodrama; it’s the rare moment when a public voice admits the private price of keeping the show - and the family - going.