The war is over. On October 20, 1945 my dad (Buddy) arrived back in his northern Pennsylvania hometown with his new wife of 17 months, 13 of which he was overseas. He was, no doubt, looking forward to settling down, working in his pharmacy, probably starting a family. He was nearly 40 years old. My mom was 32.
The next two entries in my grandmother's diary show the every day life they were coming back to. After a year in a war zone, it was well-deserved.
The simplicity of it is striking when comparing it to the past year.
- 10/25- Buddy and Dora unpacked his clothes
- 10/26- Buddy, Dora, and I went to the game. Our team lost
But that was not to last. The diary again tells the tale.
Her son is home; her son-in-law is gone.
- 10/29- Ruth [Dad's sister] called at 10.45 to say that they took Fred [her husband] to the hospital with a bad heart
- 10/30- Dad [my grandfather] and Buddy went down to Ruth’s. Fred is better
- 10/31- Buddy came home at 10. Ruth called at 11:45 to say Fred passed away last night
- 11/1- Ruth and her father came at 2 o’clock. Then we went to the cemetery and bought a lot. O God.
When it looks like life can go on, it changes.