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Typed up some more last night, for those of you that missed the beginning...
August the 15th, 1931
Today is a sad day. It is with a heavy heart that I report my dearest grandmother has passed away. I must say I am not shocked, as her illness has been with her for many years (she actually surprised us by living longer than we expected). The family doctor allowed us to see her but one last time before the remains were to be moved to Wickman's funeral home. I found it hard to look at her, as the illness has caused her to age most awful; she seemed to be nothing more than a shrunken skeleton wearing a coat of skin much too small for her. After we bid our final goodbyes we were informed that the reading of her last will and testament will be tomorrow at her home. I feel strange for some reason.
August the 16th, 1931
It's nice to know that my grandmother's illness didn't keep her from her interests, as painting, upon painting, upon painting lay askew across her walls and even the floor. She told me it was a hobby she had ever since she was young. It seems painting is all she did for the last remaining years of her life, it's beautiful and tragic, really. We met with the Executor where he read grandmother's will, and I was surprised to see that she had left me some of her belongings; a crate full of original works and a box full of her childhood toys. Odd. What was even more odd was the last request she made; she asked that her home, upon being emptied of its contents, be burned down. This is all rather odd, but I feel tired now so I will rest.
August the 20th, 1931
I have yet to open the box that I was given, or even glance at the paintings. It has been five days since her death and four since I got the possessions, but for some reason I find it hard to look at their contents. I decided to wait until a week after her death to look inside.
August the 15th, 1931
Today is a sad day. It is with a heavy heart that I report my dearest grandmother has passed away. I must say I am not shocked, as her illness has been with her for many years (she actually surprised us by living longer than we expected). The family doctor allowed us to see her but one last time before the remains were to be moved to Wickman's funeral home. I found it hard to look at her, as the illness has caused her to age most awful; she seemed to be nothing more than a shrunken skeleton wearing a coat of skin much too small for her. After we bid our final goodbyes we were informed that the reading of her last will and testament will be tomorrow at her home. I feel strange for some reason.
August the 16th, 1931
It's nice to know that my grandmother's illness didn't keep her from her interests, as painting, upon painting, upon painting lay askew across her walls and even the floor. She told me it was a hobby she had ever since she was young. It seems painting is all she did for the last remaining years of her life, it's beautiful and tragic, really. We met with the Executor where he read grandmother's will, and I was surprised to see that she had left me some of her belongings; a crate full of original works and a box full of her childhood toys. Odd. What was even more odd was the last request she made; she asked that her home, upon being emptied of its contents, be burned down. This is all rather odd, but I feel tired now so I will rest.
August the 20th, 1931
I have yet to open the box that I was given, or even glance at the paintings. It has been five days since her death and four since I got the possessions, but for some reason I find it hard to look at their contents. I decided to wait until a week after her death to look inside.
