The following letter was written by Mother to Velda and me [Marjie] while we were attending the Brigham Young University. The family at this time was making a move from the house pictured below to a new one built by Stan Meaker. This house holds most of the memories of our family life.
January 17, 1951
Dearest Girls,
I feel in a whirl, besides having a head bigger than a tub. It feels as hollow as a tub, too. I took a little cold, and all I can do is cough and sneeze.
We are still hurrying. We have nearly everything moved from the old place. I had a good cry the other day when we were over to move some more things.
The walls still echo - and don't laugh, but, even though the house was cold, I could still smell the sweetness of formals, lipstick, and music, sour notes, sweet notes - all mixed up with the good smell of shampoo - a flavor of burned toast blending in.
I could feel the warmth of life, love and some tears and heartaches with touches of disappointment and set backs off-setting treasured aspirations and hopes.
The whisper of many prayers seemed to be lingering in every room. Especially cradled in the dining room where [were?] words of thanksgiving, supplication, and strength still calling to God, with words of comfort and love still hovering over the table.
Somehow, one of the most wonderful and sacred parts of our lives seemed closed up forever within the walls of that much lived-in little house.
But then a whole new future, not what we had previously expected to be, is before us; and we must have strength and hope to meet the new day now before us.
Things change fast, especially lately. A new chapter has begun. So we will be glad for a new house, along with building new ideals and gaining new strength.
We had a wonderful farewell party for Bobby last night. Today about noon he received his call to the service.
We are all sick. He is to take his physical right away. We are still praying for him.
Daddy is in an awful hurry. So, bye for now. He just came in and has to go for a meeting.
Love, Mother