May 2, 1947

Cloudy windy & rainy

We washed the front porch this morning. Opal has gone up to Elizabeth’s.

This is my precious mother’s birthday. She would have been 89 years old if she had lived. Bless her heart wish I could see her.

Original handwritten version of the diary entry for No. 5184 entry for today's month and date.
A hole in the heart that never heals.

About my little diary project

The goal is to post entries from the diaries and journals of my ancestors, willing friends and family, myself, and found public sources like a diary my godmother discovered in a Kentucky resale shop. I want to organize them by writer, date, and where possible, geographic location. The reason: I want to honor and create a shared, minimally curated source of daily accounts of life from ordinary people. If you’d like to participate, contact me for guidelines.

2 thoughts on “May 2, 1947

  1. The loss of my mother is just beginning to sink in, so I can relate to what she’s feeling. But, holy cow, her mother was born in 1858!

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