John has a nasty cold and consequently is as cold as possible to me. I'll do my best and be patient until its over. I do everything in my power for him, grant every possible request. I never tell him his faults and try not to let him know when he hurts me and I ask myself - why? He comes and goes just as he pleases. When he wants me he always knows where to find me. I take his sarcasm with a grain and ask nothing of him. - Why? I've waited four and a half years for him and never mentioned it - Why?
The first Sunday in the new year and I have not been to church or Sunday School.
John has a nasty cold and consequently is as cold as possible to me. I'll do my best and be patient until its over. I do everything in my power for him, grant every possible request. I never tell him his faults and try not to let him know when he hurts me and I ask myself - why? He comes and goes just as he pleases. When he wants me he always knows where to find me. I take his sarcasm with a grain and ask nothing of him. - Why? I've waited four and a half years for him and never mentioned it - Why?
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I get somewhat of a thrill out of being called "Aunt Virginia." I wonder why?
I am fond of Mary and George but to me they do not represent idealism in marriage on in the art of being parents. Perhaps it is because they are so practical - and so lacking in affection. I pray God I am not reaching a stage where marriage seems foolish. The thought has run through my mind several times lately. I used to want nothing but to be married to John. We have everything now that marriage life offers except the sex life and the responsibilities. Why wed a poor man for that? Among the infinite number of things I can't do is letter writing - Tonight I've attempted writing to an aunt and to a cousin. I have an idea that they sound egotistical to the reader.
As a general rule I don't like any kind of reading that is written in the first person - not even Vivian Gilbert's "Romance of the Last Crusade." |
ContextThis is the journal of Virginia Lee Scott, my grandmother, written when she was seventeen and first dating my grandfather, John Arnold Wilson. It's a dairy published by Media Drug Stores and includes space for two entries per day, with facts about the era printed at the bottom, which I have included in italics. Following, 1928, is the journal of John Arnold Wilson, my grandfather, at age nineteen and in love with my grandmother, followed by my grandmother's journal in 1931. Archives
April 2018
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