July 15, 1947
Thank you so much for staying with us as you did for the funeral and the terrible aftermath of Paul's passing. I don't know how I would have gotten through it if you hadn't been here and, I have to tell you, I miss you and Father more than words can say.
I know you were hoping that I would pack up the children and return to Nova Scotia, but Cherry Hill is their home and losing their father is a big enough adjustment without moving them across the country. I will stick it out here for another winter and let them immerse in the normalcy of another school year in September. Come this time next year, I will decide if it will be better for all of us to come home.
I'm still in a state of shock about the accident and haven't quite come to accept that Paul is really gone - especially with so much mystery still surrounding the crash.
Val is still no help at all. She remains in a state of amnesia and has absolutely no recollection of anything that has taken place in her life in the past five years. Her last memory is of being in nursing school, and though I hadn't realized it, she and Jack knew each other rather well at that time so as she is convalescing the only people she seems to want to see are the Wilson's.
Fortunately, Mrs. Wilson seems to have developed her own case of amnesia regarding the hair in the green beans.
As for me, I am not into my own yet and spend most days when the children are at play wandering around the house - which seems so empty with Paul gone. Though he wasn't home a lot of the time, I always knew he would return and that he was the head of our family. Now that I'm left to make all the decisions I don't know if I'll be able to do it.
But I must, and I know that, no matter what, you and Father are always there for me if I need you.
And the people of Cherry Hill have been here for me too, most surprising has been Mrs. Wilson who continues to keep us in casseroles. Though I have no appetite for anything, she stops by every afternoon with another donated casserole from the auxiliary and insists I eat something. For me, it is a Godsend because I have no energy to cook and even tire from the most basic of household tasks.
The children are as well as can be expected and, though they are sad, I am happy anytime I see them playing with friends and sharing some laughter. I haven't felt much like laughing yet, but I hold onto the hope that eventually I am going to feel less numb.
I only wish I knew what Paul and Val were doing on that road the night of the accident and with her amnesia, I fear I may never find out.
Well, that's all for now. I see Jack coming up the walk. He has offered to cut the grass.
Perhaps I'll offer him a slice of a brand new Italian dish called lasagna that Mrs Denardi made for us.
Until next time, thank you for your thoughts and prayers.
Your loving daughter,
If you would like to try "Mrs. Denardi's" lasagna, check out my easy how to recipe here. I'm biased, but I truly believe this is one of the best lasagnas you will ever have!
Click here for the printable recipe.
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