October 14, 1936

After a few days of feverish activity I can relax again and come back to this. It gives me such a feeling of satisfaction to have this work to look forward to. Otherwise many days would seem meaningless. I dreamed a story last nightnow I can recall only the title The Questing Woman. Maybe I can use that sometime. If I could remember the dream I might have the making of a story. In fact why couldnt that be the name for a story about a woman who looks for the best in life, the best as I see it. What is the best as I see it? Doing work that one loves? I believe that is the secret of happiness, besides which even love becomes a secondary matter.

May 28, 1940

The war in Europe has suddenly developed into a nightmare of horrorthe blitz krieg has come. And with each day I feel we are being drawn more inevitably into it. As long as we only talk it there is hope, but I feel soon we will be forced for our own sakes to enter. The Allies do not seem able to survive alone, and if they lose we will be left to face Hitler alone. And that may be worse than war at present. But when I realize that the moment war is declared Ross will be called up I cant bear to have it happen. It is impossible to grasp the meaning of the horror endured abroad at this distance, but one feels it surely cannot be happening while we go on about our lives as usualI am afraid not for long. What can the future hold for us of happiness? I look ahead and see only fear, loneliness, and perhaps terror, and I pray for courage to face it, and wisdom and strength to carry my children through whatever may come.

Jan. 15, 1945

From crisis to crisis! Have spent the morning in a mood of self abnegation as a result of a recent difference between Ross and me. I feel utterly worthless, ungodly, the chaff before the wind. As I look back on the years of our marriage it seems I have always been too selfish, a poor mother, a bad wife, and a sloppy housekeeper. Why? I honestly do not know unless I am made of poor material, a fool to start with. Now there seems little I can do to help mattersthe pattern is set. How wrong we can be about ourselves. I always thought there was something worthwhile in me, an intrinsic, real me worth cultivating and encouraging in her oddities. But evidently it has been nothing but false pride which has lead to my destructionfor I am destroyed. There seems nothing left worth living for. It is too late to be a really good wife and mother. My husband no longer loves me or believes in memy children are already well started in the pattern of their lives.

May 6, 1948

That 40th birthday has come and gone, and I didnt mind so much as I thought I should. Everyone was so sweet to me. Ross gave me a radio and record cabinet for the den, Jimmy a kitchen towel and dish rag set, very pretty, Gretchen a bottle of lovely cologne, Becky a record of Clair de Lune and Mother and Dad sent me flowers. A very lovely birthday and a lovely necklace from Winnie. I was so pleased by all the attention I forgot to be unhappy.

July 13, 1951

Friday, 13th, that black day. How my emotional life fluctuateslast time I wrote here I was at the bottom, now things have leveled off again. For how long? I have been going through a lower period of self depreciation however. When we are getting along together our life still seems so dullI think sometimes we fight to liven it up a little. I do think we could have more fun without too much more effort. I have to be practically unpleasant to get myself taken to a movie once in a blue moon, yet Ive said over and over that I enjoy shows and plays more than any entertainment. A husband never seems to feel obligated to plan entertainment for a mere wife. They evidently feel that is her job and how. It frightens me to look back and see the mistakes Ive made in my life, yet sometimes I wonder how much control we really have. My fault has been in not knowing what I wanted soon enough. If I had said early that I wanted a busy happy family life and turned every thought in that directionhow much better the results might have been. Instead I was torn between personal ambition and family aimshave accomplished success in neither.

Oct. 23, 1978

Three months have passed since Ross died and it seems to me I miss him more instead of less. I keep recalling that last day and how he went and the Tuesday before when he was lying down back in our bedroom while I had prayer group here. When I went back after the ladies left he caught my hand and in the saddest voice said, Im lonely. I almost knew then that his time to die was near, and oh, what a lonely time that is! My heart aches when I think of him then, and I couldnt help him very much, really not at all.

January 29, 1984

Some days I begin to wonder why I am herewhat has been my purpose in living? Was there any? Was it just to produce children to carry on the race? Thats really all I have done. Is it enough? Or important at all? Maybe Dr. Ball was right when he said I was a good milk cow, or words to that effect. I didnt like it at the time.