Saturday, Oct. 31, 1942
It was Halloween. My mother would be on the train tomorrow and my father was anticipating his first nights alone in over a month. This letter would reach my mother by the middle of the coming week.
“Darling, I’m so sleepy this AM – Sleepy Saturday – it’s a habit we’re getting into.. Hope you’re getting some rest at home now (Saturday 10/31/42) while I wrangle with insurance blanks for me patients – Saturday morning is my legal day. Your Pa says I can have a bike, your Ma says not till Chanukah – But when it comes I’m going to ride to work chaque jour [Fr. Each day] and on nice days I’d like to have you ride in on your bike and meet me and we’ll ride home together.
I still have 24 hours of grace. Really am surprised at my own attitude…. Not, (as it might have been) that your visit was over and now you’re leaving – or that the honeymoon is over and now life begins – not at all – rather I feel we’re still ascending the curve, and your take off tomorrow is in a direct line of that curve and will carry us up, up, up very gently – and I can’t even see the zenith of the curve – so of course there is no decline in view.”
Here are Brenda Starr cut outs from Oct. 25.