It is Monday morning. To save me, I could not compose a letter to you this past week, or even, in desperation, yesterday. It must be the overwhelming blow of four deaths in eleven days - all of which vitally concern me. Of course, ALL of us are reconciled to Mother Lytle's passing - and our grief is partly selfish. But so many of us moored our ships in her quiet harbor. Saltsburg will never be quite the same.
Within a week after her death my beloved brother-in-law, Clarence Summers, passed away. Only 46. One man in ten thousand. Four days later Cousin Lillian's only son - Francis Moore of Apollo. So young! And so lovable! The next day the husband of a dear Cleveland friend had a heart attack - and she is left with three sons, the youngest, eight. I've poured all my sorrows into one brief letter - so that you will understand! Next week it will be different. A brighter, happier New Year to you all.
Affectionately,
Florence B. Taylor
Next - 2/3/44 - Planning the trip to California. Ticker acting up