Do tear this up if you think my writing ghastly

Disclaimer:  This letter has some graphic information on childbirth, and if you don’t want to know anything about the process from the perspective of an 18/19 year old nurse, please do not read the section in purple.

 

June 26
Wed morn
0230

Dearest Chuck:

Sure an missing a certain someone tonite.  Five weeks can’t go any too fast for me.  I’ve asked Mrs. Daportee again yesterday if I could have nites and the supervisor (nites) has asked her so maybe I can have it.  Seems like time goes faster when I’m on nites.

Want to know all about my troubles?  Well, I don’t think I have any right at the moment  really since I’ve been on nites, I’ve felt a lot better.  No more real dark circles around my eyes.  Maybe thats because I at least get 8 hours of sleep if not more each day.  One more month of nites would really fix me up for my vacation.  I told mom last nite I wanted to work and she said definitely not.  It was to be a vacation and that it would be.  See what I mean?  I’m bound to have fun.

Got a letter from you yesterday morning.  Real short like.  Hope nothing is wrong.  Maybe your like I am, when it comes to writing I get so excited about what I’m going to say next, that I want to write real fast and if I did then you couldn’t read it at all.  And so my arm gets real tired cause I have it so tense-trying to go slower.  Now is that clear as mud?  Any way, I  can still write 100s of letters in my mind to everyone on paper.  The last couple of days I’ve written so many letters I can’t hardly remember when I wrote to my man last.

Probably the last letter was mailed Monday morning.  Well-monday after noon I went down town-did a few errands for mom and then after six I went out to dinner with mom and Charles went to Chesapeake.  Has us a trout dinner but it sure wasn’t very good.  What kind of fish do you eat back there?  You don’t have any mountain streams to get trout out of.  I would just as soon of had a big mess of smelt fried at home and cooked crisp.

Back to Monday.  I told you Charles bought another car didn’t I?  Of course.  Well, it was in the garage being checked so we walked.  After dinner we went to the show at the Ada.  Saw ‘Smoky.’  Beautiful colors and scenery.  Well, after that, the same old thing for me: back to work.

'Smokey,' 1946.

‘Smoky,’ 1946.

I don’t know wheter it was such a good idea or not to change my hair style.  I’ve had to put it up the last four mornings when I got off work and at nite it always comes down.  Guess I’ll have to switch back again.  Don’t think I’ll cut it again for a long time.

Did me a little roller skating in the Gym again yesterday evening.  I didn’t fall down either.  I haven’t for a long time but the other french girl (note: I’m calling myself a french girl now) came out and put them on and of course she mopped up the floor good with them.  Her shorts I mean!

We saw some pictures over at St. Margie’s last nite.  Are supposed to have them Mon, Tues, Wed, and Thurs, and we’re off duty, we’re supposed to go.  Of course I didn’t Monday nite because I didn’t know about them.  But last nite I went and wow!  Saw things I never dreamed I would.  Tell you what I mean: I’ve never had to do much with O.B. yet and last nite we saw a complete birth.  Boy the more I see the more I decide I don’t want any.  Not even yours Dolly.  That wouldn’t stop the pain.  It must be unbearable.  Why, that woman split wide open when the child came and then the Dr. sewed her back up.  The kids who’ve had O.B. said it happens most every time.  And the poor woman is conscious too- Oh I’m sorry that I tell you such things.  Do tear this up if you think my writing too ghastly.  I can’t help but think about it.  It was such a shock to me.  To tell the truth, nothing has made me sick but that sure comes close to it.  Guess I had just never really realized what happens.  They say it’s the bloodiest of all things-even surgery and I believe it.  I’m sorry Dolly.  I should never say those things to any man.  Not even if he was my husband.  I should not even send this letter, but something prompts me to, so I will.  Do you forgive me for doing so?

Remember I said Nina and Joe have a new car?  Wish I knew what kinds.  Well, anyway, they went down to see his mother.  She lives in Northern California.  Honestly.  She even makes cheeses and  stuff and sends it to us.  A little old Italian lady.  She gave Nina some beautiful hand made things she brought from Italy.  She knits for Nina all the time.  And Nina can’t speak Italian and Mrs. Robustellini can’t speak English so they get along swell. Any way, this all leads up to something.  They went down there and called home from there.  Nina wants to know when we’re coming.  So I wrote, as I told you, and asked some of the plans.  And I’m wondering if you’ll like a couch?  I’ll trade off with you, Dolly.

Last nite after seeing those pictures, a bunch of walked down to McCalls.  Golly, if only you guys knew how happy you make us girls when you whistle or follow along in cars.  Such a time flirting last nite.  You don’t mind, do you?  It never went beyond flirting.

Golly, in five weeks I’ll see my man in a grey shirt and not in khaki.  Wonder if I’ll recognize you.  Have you found out how you’re coming yet? You won’t forget to bring your swim suit will you?  Listen to me tell you what to do and not to do.  Could you stand my nagging the rest of your life?  Well, we’ll see.  I’ve got babies to feed now, so nite.  In a few hours I shall dream of you and us.

Nite now.  Love
Clarese

 

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under 1940s, Letters

One response to “Do tear this up if you think my writing ghastly

  1. Pingback: Cherry festivals, horse shows, and a bit of cheekiness | Blue Ridge Vintage

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s