JUNE 8, 1936
EN ROUTE TO CHICAGO.—I spent a most peaceful and quiet day in New York yesterday, going out (only) for a few errands in the morning. I marked all my mail, got my bags packed, and called my mother-in-law at Hyde Park to get the latest news of her. She sounded very cheerful and the doctor was going to let her try to put some weight on her leg today.
It is really curious how easily one can adjust from the life of perpetual activity with engagements scheduled for practically every minute of the day and evening to the return to a personal life, with time to think and read and sit about with one's family and friends!
It was grand meeting my daughter and son-in-law, who have been in California for six weeks. Letters are all very well but they do not take the place of actually seeing and touching the people you are fond of. Considering the fact that they were starting early Saturday morning with the children for Hyde Park, and must have had a good deal of unpacking and repacking, I am afraid I stayed much too late, just talking with them Friday night.
I started a book yesterday which I have been carrying around in my brief case for several days. It is called "The Diary of a Suburban Housewife," by Dorothy Blake, and I recommend it to any one who feels that life is complicated and overcrowded, or who is taking themselves a shade too seriously. No one can help but be amused, but mixed with the amusement is a good deal of sound common sense and wise philosophy. One little quotation expresses better than I have seen it done before, a thought that I am sure comes to many of us very often: "It does seem terribly unfair that such thousands of people are born and live and die with no past to regret and no future to look forward to. We rarely realize how much we live on the memories of the past, both happy and sad, and how much we depend on the hopes we have for the future to make the difficulties of today bearable. How tolerant and patient it should make us with those whose lot in life gives them no variety of memories and for whom today is so like yesterday in dullness and hardship that they can not even hope for any different future.
We will be in Chicago this afternoon. The trip, while warm in spots has been very comfortable.