Sunday, June 25, 1944

I went to Martha’s and we all went to attend service. Mrs. Pratt gave me all her usual attentiveness at the potluck. She handed me a lemon cake made from the basket of lemons I gave her the other week.

I also met Dennis, an old time friend from elementary school. He runs the local pharmacy in Wilson. When we were in school, he always excelled in all our subjects, he could have been a doctor if their finances only allowed him to pursue it. I’ve always thought him an academic and that he’ll never settle down till he was old and gray. He came back from active duty a few months after Daniel died in Pearl Harbor and met a girl in California when he made a lay over there on his way back to Denver. The girl, now his wife, came here last fall and they are now expecting a baby. They look so happy together that I felt a pang of regret for not securing a life like theirs at my age.

I had an excellent time. Sundays are usually the only day of the week that I get to mingle with my friends and neighbors. I’ve lived here all my life and these people are now like family to me. The war had brought the residents closer and we have shared our hopes and fears. It is comforting to know that even if the farm is situated at the far end of town, I’ve never felt isolated here. However, I now feel that the farm is too big for one person and I do need someone to help me run it.

Until I spoke to Reverend yesterday, she has occupied my mind more so now that I have her name - Olivia. The name itself holds me in fascination. How does she look like? Why didn’t she get married? Was she not worth marrying? Will she be a willing party to this marriage? Will we be compatible and learn to know each other willingly? I have so many questions I wish I can have answers before I come to my own decision. It’s not that the Reverend gave so little information, in fact, I probably know about her and her family more than what Olivia would be willing to divulge in my presence. I realize that I alone will be able to provide the answers to these questions, not even the Reverend can provide me the assurance that I want.

I think I know what my answer will be but I’ll give it one more day. I’ve been praying hard for this and I’ve been writing in a flurry this past week. Writing my thoughts down does help me sort my thoughts out. My mind’s been cluttered but yet I wonder how Olivia is feeling at this very moment. Is she as unsure and scared as I am about this?