Letter #13.

February 25, 1943.

Thursday Evening.

 

My sweetheart,

            If you received the letter I wrote Monday (V mail), you know that on Monday I received two letters from you, dear. One was #1 for Feb., written the 4th, and postmarked the 9th, and the other was #2 for Feb., written the 6th, and postmarked the 13th. The former was censored, but nothing cut out, and the latter was not censored. I received three letters for the month of January, by the way. However, from one or two references in your letters, I think you must have written a fourth letter in January, which I have not yet received, but which will probably get here some day.) Today I received two envelopes by free mail—one containing three papers, and the other had two. Both envelopes were postmarked Feb. 6th, and both had been censored, but hey got here all right. I will read them later tonight, probably after I get in bed. It is such a thrill every time I hear from you, dearest, and I enjoy the papers, too.

            Last night was a card party at the Parish House. Grandma paid for a table, and told me to use it. I was going to ask Dolores, Betty Constine, and Eleanor Davis. But with First Aid class, and Nutrition classes, and bandage making all being held then, I was forced to change my plans. So I asked Dorothy, Hope, and Laura. I didn’t know at first whether or not to ask Dorothy, as I had only talked to her once over the phone since she had seen the doctor and knew for sure that she was pregnant. But she said she was feeling fine, and would like to go, and of course she doesn’t show it yet. So we had a lot of fun. None of us won a prize for cards, although Laura did win a door prize---a pretty chromium dish with a cover. It was a nice party, and there was quite a crowd there. I understand that they made over $60.00, and before all the money is in, too. So the final figure ought to be pretty good.

            Upstairs on the stage, in the Parish House, they have erected an altar, and have chairs on the stage, and have made sort of a little chapel, and are going to have the week-day services there, to save heating the church when only a few people come. And thus save fuel. And soon they hope to have a choir room fixed down in the basement of the church itself. At present, the piano, which used to be up on the stage in the Parish House, is in the south-east corner of the upstairs, there.

            I hope this time that Dorothy won’t have any trouble and any more mis-carriages. How many has it been---three or four, I think. And I understand that she and Don have been trying for some time to have a baby, but didn’t know whether or not it would be possible after the operation she had last year. The doctor said he did not know. But now he tells her that if she takes it easy and gets thought the fourth month all right, she will probably be all right the rest of the time. So she is being careful, and has about two more months to go before the first four will be up. Personally, however, I think this is a terrible time to have children, although as always happens in war time, the birth rate is rising. But everyone is under a nervous strain, as everyone has someone in the service, and it is hard on the mother and baby both. And also, no one is living a normal life, with part of their families away from home, and the rest of the members of the family working odd hours a day in defense industries. And I feel very strongly that everyone, -men, women, and children,- should all do their part in helping the war effort and ending this war as soon as possible. Then after the men are home again and we have a free country in which to bring up children, then will be a better time to have children. Everything is so uncertain now. I wish I knew when it would all end, and you would be coming back to me.

            Tuesday evening, I went over to your dad’s and mother’s house for dinner.

            Your father picked me up after work, and I rode over with him. Their new piano is so nice, and just fits in there nicely, and the new chair and the sofa (or should I call it a davenport) are lovely. It is a big improvement, and changes the whole appearance or the room, and by getting out those two big pieces of furniture that they had down south, and getting out one of the numerous tables, there is a lot more space in their living room, and it doesn’t look so cluttered up. It is really grand. After we finished eating and doing the dishes, we went over to Dorothy’s and Don’s, as I had seen the house from the outside, but had never been inside.

            Their house is very nice and comfortable, though it is not as large as it looks from the outside. They have a big living room, about as wide as ours is where the bay window sticks out, and I think it is a little longer than ours too, although the small sun parlor which is on the end of the living room, gives it an appearance of greater length than it really has. The dining room is quite small, and the kitchen is medium size. Upstairs are three bedrooms, and a big bathroom. The room Bobby has at present is going to be used for a nursery, and they are going to sell the bedroom suite in Don’s room, and put Bobby in there. Then Don and Dorothy will have to share the same room. Won’t that be awful for Don? But they have bought twin beds, so that they won’t have to sleep together. I’m afraid that twin beds will make their room rather crowded, but that is not my business. The beds are to be delivered sometime soon, but I presume that Don will stay in his own room just as long as possible. I’m glad that you are not like that, darling. I feel terribly lonesome each night when I get into bed all alone.

            The house is hot air heat, and takes quite a bit of coal, but that may be due to the fact that the ceilings are rather high. Of course, they are not as high as those in this house, but they are higher than those in our house or those in your folks’ house. They have a good-sized clothes closet in each bedroom, a linen closet, and a closet for coats downstairs. They are going to have the two big pieces of furniture that your folks brought up from the south and don’t use any more, as I mentioned above. Dorothy and Don are having those two large pieces recovered---the couch in red, and the chair in blue, and are going to get rid of their outer suit that they now have.

            I figured out our income tax, and Mr. Riley figured it out, and our answers agree, so it must be right. Everyone is going to pay their federal tax one quarter at a time, because there is talk that maybe part of the tax will be dropped, and a new pay-as-you-go plan adopted. But nothing has been decided as yet, and no one knows just what will be done. I understand that the state tax this year won’t be very much, but I haven’t seen the blanks yet. And I’m not absolutely sure what our federal tax will be, because I don’t have the papers here where I figured it out. But tomorrow I am going to stop in Mr. Riley’s office, and sign the return, and will bring the original and the carbon copy and the figures home with me, and the next time I write, I’ll tell you the amount. But it is not very much, and as you said in your letter, no matter how much it is, we will be glad to pay them to help finance the war and get it over with. And the sooner the better.

            I’m glad you received the second Christmas package from me. And I presume you have received the packages from the rest of the people now---one from your folds, one from Dorothy, Bobby, and Don, one from the Foley’s, and I think one from the Davis boys.

            And speaking of the Davis boys---did you get my letter telling you that Charlie Constine is going into the service tomorrow? And Henry Cook is going to be drafted late in March. Ralph Smith, Doug’s boy, is going to Officer’s Training School. I understand that the army has improved him considerably. I always thought that there was plenty of room for improvement there.

            I’m glad to know that your cold is about gone. Don’t catch another one.

            I wish I knew when you were coming home, so I would have something more definite to look forward to. But as it is, I realize no one knows, so I just go along from day to day, just waiting for your letters, and living for the happy years that will be in store for us after your return, dearest. I’m looking forward so eagerly to the time when we will be together again. And I pray that it will be not too far in the future.

            All my love and kisses to you, my darling sweetheart. I’m so very proud of you, honey. And I also know that you are the most wonderful husband in the whole world. I pray for your safety and speedy return several times each day, and you are always in my thoughts, dearest.  I love you with all my heart.

                                                            Very affectionately,

                                                                        Your loving and devoted wife,

                                                                                    Jeanette.