Monday, Oct. 5, 1942
With the trip east now officially postponed to mid-November, my father pondered what to do about his mother. In a letter he wrote to his sister this day, my father vacillated between loving concern and frustration.
Loving concern: Knowing that his recently widowed mother needed financial help, he promised, “I’m perfectly willing to budget myself even more strictly to send mom some money…I figure if I contribute $10 a month and you could give her $5, that would help mom for her needs. Think it over and let me know how that plan suits you. If it doesn’t suit you, I will go ahead and send mom $10 a month anyway. And if you think that I’m not cutting expenses to the bone out here to even send that much then you can forget all about it….I’ll probably have to sell the car soon and give up insurance money.”
Frustration: He couldn’t help adding, “I’m still pretty sore about the way she is treating my wife and if it continues much longer, there will be only one thing to do and that is to cut off from her and whole family completely and clearly and to forget about it — and don’t think I can’t do it.”
No letters arrived today.