5-6-1945
Dear journal, today is the day they decided to divorce. We have been packing all the time that I have not been writing in you, and I have had some tough choices these past few weeks! Some of those choices have been what stuff to have at Mum's house and what stuff to have at Pop's house. Also, I have to choose what stuff to get rid of. That decision is super hard for me because I have so much stuff! I think now might be a good time to explain how I look. I have long, long, dirty blonde hair, almost down to my waist. I am 11 years old and very short for my age. I like wearing bright colorful clothes with lots and lots of pockets! I bite my fingernails a lot so they're very ragged. my hands, as some people will say, are freezing cold! I have a few freckles, but they aren't very noticeable. I am in the sixth grade and like math, reading, science, but don't like PE or history. Last month President Roosevelt died, and I am super sad.
5- 7- 1945
Dear Journal, my house feels so empty right now. It is all packed up for the move. All of the metal stuff was easy to pack because I have a liking to metal, and sometimes I have found bolts and screws on the couch when they were not there a moment ago. I also think magnets are very interesting.
I'm not excited, but so nervous. What if I don't like the new house? What if it is full of spiders? I hate spiders because they are so creepy, crawly, and icky! I once got bitten by a black widow, and it was the worst experience of my life, except for the divorce now of course. Mum and Pop are yelling and fighting right now. I'm hiding in the closet. Mum just yelled at Pop, and that is the sound of crying! I can't wait until we move now. Just 10 more days until relief.
5- 17- 1945
Dear Journal today is the day of the move. Mum and Pop give me the choice of who to live with on what days. I'm not sure what to do. What I am thinking is to have Mondays and Tuesdays with Pop. Mum will get Wednesdays and Thursdays. On Fridays, I think it will change every week. Journal, I know that you can't speak to me, but what do you think? What should I do? My Mum used to sing me a song, 'You Are My Sunshine'. She doesn't anymore. I wish she did. Journal, those times were so much better. I miss them so much. I will give you an update on how I'm doing tomorrow when I'm at Mum's house.
