Monday, June 21, 1943

Dear Diary,

It’s hard to realize that the happiest day of my life was just two months ago today. It seems like longer than that, in that I want to see Bob in person again so badly that I can feel it. And yet in another way it seems like only yesterday, because I can read that newspaper article or think about it, and recall every little incident. I can even remember the lovely, deep tone of his voice as he turned around from the mike, his eyes searching the platform, and started a sentence, “I wonder _ _ _.” When he saw me, he said, “Oh, yes” low, and it actually happened. (Ain’t I silly? But happy.)

I now have a total of forty hours at the mailing center to my credit.