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Death seems Dear

(Sally here: Again, I make apologies for not blogging sooner. My world has been a bit full lately concerning my diary business. I can’t say exactly right now what I’ve been doing but my adventures might make it possible for me to share my diaries in a bigger way. Lots of meetings lately and in November I head to England for more meetings. So, with that said, I’ve been a busy, and very excited girl. More to come on that subject but really more importantly, it’s John’s turn……)

“10:35 P.M. November 15th, Sitting by the fire alone. Cora and Bethine are asleep. It is colder tonight. I do not want to go to bed. I cannot keep warm and so I sit by the fire and wonder a great deal about life until I cannot longer stay awake. Now there is no planning for the future, the days bring only what they may. I cannot seem to bear my loss without grief and bitterness in my heart; I am still too much a coward to face life bravely and make the best of it. Such changes life brings and life seemed so dear I was afraid of death. Now death seems so dear and I am afraid of life and yet I live. How easily I might end my life but we are taught it is wrong to do so and so I do not. I wonder if cowardice holds me back? I suppose. “Ilya toyed skuisya.” 10:55 P.M.”

(Sally here: WOW….. “life seemed so dear I was afraid of death. Now death seems so dear and I am afraid of life and yet I live.”)


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Sally here: Well I’m back….finally. And what a passage to come back to. November 14th’s entry is heartbreaking and so beautiful. Bless your heart John….

11:25 P.M. November 13th, I

It is getting late. I must be in bed soon. The drive home from Ft. Worth this evening has left me tired but I do not want to go to bed. Pat had such a nice dinner today. I’m sorry I could not eat more to make her feel as tho I appreciated it, when it was for my birthday. The white and yellow chrysanthemums I took to Greenwood today were so pretty; I take them for her; she loved flowers so. If there were only still her loving arms to receive them. How I worship her yet; if it is wrong then it cannot be helped. I can be no different I wish I was only half as good as I try to be. “Ilya toyed skuisya” 11:40 P.M.”

10:20 P.M. November 14th, How precious memory is and yet how it makes the heart ache again. This evening I got out my little drafting board to sketch some plans of another airplane model which I intend to build; the little board which she used to hold in her lap when curled up in her rocker and there write letters to mother and daddy and to me if I should happen to be gone for a day. On the back of the board is her name in her own handwriting. It made my heart beat faster when I saw it but just beside her name is the faint pencil lines of a hand, my hand which I laid on the board and she traced the outline around it. It all came to me as quick as a flash and the little love pats which she gave my hand. I could hardly refrain from bursting out sobbing. Oh God! How could you take her away? Please let me go to her! “Ilya toyed skuisya.” 10:35 P.M.”

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Please forgive the delay again in my postings. I’ve been in the process of cataloging all my diary and letter collection and it’s a huge process but I’m loving it. I purchased two large safes, which holds about half of what I have. Heading now on a family vacation for a few days and hope to post a passage when I get back. Hope you’re all having a fabulous summer.

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Summer Cataloging

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(Sally here: Well, It’s been a while hasn’t since my last entry. I keep saying I’m going to get better but this new adventure of mine is keeping me pretty busy. Part of this adventure that I’m embarking on is that I’m in the process of reading, researching and cataloging all the diaries in my private collection; no easy task but I’m having so much fun doing so. BUT, I’m not giving up on my blogs and hopefully this new project of mine will enable me to share more and more diaries. I appreciate all your patience with me. Sal)

10:20 P.M. November 12th,1927

It is only Sat. night again. It is much colder. Winter will soon be here. To what end does man finally come? It is always puzzling to me. I want to know, so I must want to die. Man can find the answer no other way. And yet I shall always seek so long as life remains. I work hard; I am always busy; it does not tire me greatly only at times, but it brings not the relief or peace of mind which means rest. I am a devil indeed. Tomorrow I can take so many lovely chrysanthemums to Greenwood. She always loved flowers, they shall not be wanting to beautiful her little plot so long as I am able to make the trip to Ft. Worth. If I was not here there would be no flowers for her. Some day I’ll be resting too. Perhaps then we may chase the moon together. “Ilya toyed skuisya.” 10:35 P.M.”

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9:30 P.M. November 11th, One more day is gone, that seems my only consolation in the evening when bedtime comes. They are all so very much alike, one more or one less does not seem to be treasured. I am thankful if they have been spent as I want them to be; I am remorseful if they bring some urge or action that is not always good. And so the days come and go, some are good and some are bad. This is Armistice Day. Memories of many things it brings to mind. How different it is from that of nine years ago. Joy and hope which mounted to the highest pinnacles of mans desire then throbbed within me. Now I am only silent. Nothing can ever revive the spirit that once prevailed. It is dead. I want to sail with the silver clouds or climb near the moon; to be away from living things and talk to the stars. I am very odd. “Ilya toyed skiusya.” 9:50 P.M.”

(Sally here: WOW. John you are NOT odd and if you are you are in the greatest sense of the word. You are a poet, you are an amazing writer and I don’t even know if you knew that…… “Joy and hope which mounted to the highest pinnacles of mans desire then throbbed within me. Now I am only silent.” AMAZING)

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I’m finally back from Texas. It was such an amazing trip (way too much to express here) so again I’ve picked up my own diary to write about my experiences. I’ve read thousands of diaries in my lifetime and figuring out “why” people write in their diary is one of the most fascinating aspect of reading other peoples diaries. As for me, I write to get things out of my head and off my heart, but of course that never works; somethings will always stay with you regardless of how wonderful or how painful….yet I still write.

And with all that said, I want to introduce you to Dorothy. I just found this diary a few months ago and this, her 1st passage, is so surreal. Her last words just blew me away, it was if she was talking to me……me a “girl of this century”


DorothySept. 13, 1919. A great many people have advised me to keep a journal saying that if one keeps a journal he will be more likely to find interesting events going on around him, so I, Dorthy, am going to keep this one. I am twelve, thirteen next month. I’m in my first year of High now and hope to be the rest of this year. I have a father and mother and a brother. Also a dear friend whose name is Sara Louise Spear. I met her at Hampton Beach where our family stays summers. She is a dear and I surely do love her. My best friend here at home is Marion Hansome now. I really like her very much although our friendship now is a bit strained. I’ve read so many books about other girls who kept diaries years ago who had them and then girls of this century found them. I would like nothing better than to have this book found and read after I am gone. I hope if such happens that the people who find it think it interesting.”

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