Betsy’s Diary

I bought a “Surprise Box” at Goodwill and took it home to explore the contents. I found mostly old dishes and silverware, wrapped in a couple of well-worn and stained tablecloths. At the bottom, wrapped carefully in a beautifully hand embroidered cloth, I found a diary with the name Betsy and the words “Happy Birthday, June 1” embossed in gold on the blue satin cover.

Every two pages she had written the date of each entry, starting with June 1, 1938. The handwriting was that of a child, round and large. She explained that her grandfather gave her the diary for her tenth birthday and instructed her to write two pages every year on that date.

Skimming through the book, I noticed that the handwriting matured along with the content of the entries. She was a good writer, even from a young age, and her diary entries kept my interest. I learned about WWII from the perspective of a child whose father had to leave his family and go to Europe to fight. During the 1950’s, Betsy wrote about marrying a man named Hank and having a child, a boy she doted on. James did well in school and was the first in her family to graduate from college.

For several years, things went well. James married and bought a house right down the road, so she was able to see her three granddaughters grow up and have children of their own. But on June 1, 1999, her handwriting looked very different. Betsy wrote that she had a stroke a few months before, and her mobility wasn’t what it used to be. Each year after that, the handwriting got a bit worse until Betsy finally resorted to printing in large block letters.

On June 1, 2008, there were only two words. “Tom died.” Nothing else. I stopped and did some calculating. Betsy would have been 80 years old, a widow and physically unable to do things that had once been so easy for her. To her credit, she soldiered on and made the best of her life for the next ten years. Her entry on June 1, 2018, was the last, and the saddest. She wrote:

“It’s been a good life, but I’m ready to go now. My Tom has been gone for the past 10 years, and the young ones are busy with their own lives. I’ve tried to give some of my best things to them, but they don’t want my treasures. They have their own ‘stuff’ as they call it. My dishes and silver and the other things I’ve kept so carefully aren’t of any interest to anyone but me. I’m going to pack it all up and leave it for Goodwill to get after my funeral. Maybe somebody can use my things and will appreciate them like I did. If you’re reading this diary, please don’t just throw it away. It contains the story of my life, such as it has been. Maybe there will be something here for you to learn from, so your life will be even better than mine. I wish you well and pray that God blesses you with love all the days of your life.”

I will never part with Betsy’s diary and her box of treasures, and will pass them on to someone who will value them, and remember her.