Diary of Esther Swanstrom

transcribed by Margaret (Porter) Riley

Thursday, April 3rd 1913

I am at home once more and very happy to be here although my trip was enjoyable all the way through. I came from Piney to Dunhame yesterday and Bert brought me from there home to-day on horseback. Poor Bert I am sure that his shoulder ached after carrying my suit case strapped over his shoulder for such a distance and at such a rate of speed.

My trip or rather the trip from Opal to Piney the before was the trip however. I came in from Kemmerer to Opal Tuesday and went directly from the train to the hotel and immediately to bed. It seemed that I hardly had closed my eyes when someone nearly broke in my door in an eager and frantic effort to arouse me from my sweet untroubled sleep. It was a call to action and the temperature of the room made the action necessarily swift. I was the last one for breakfast but Netty distinguished me with the honor of giving me some music on a very old and heart broken graphaphone. It is said that digestion is more easily carried on if one is in good spirits and music of course is supposed to have a very inspiring and pleasing effect upon both soul and body. Netty no doubt realized the necessity of such an effect when she brought me those three carefully trimmed cool hot-cakes.

At seven o’clock we were ready to start, six passengers, one driver, seven hundred pounds of mail and one rock. (Mr. Soliday heated that rock and put it in for my special benefit. He was thoughtful as to size and must have had a mental picture of my feet in his mind when he picked it up.) The sun was up and everything seemed to promise us a beautiful day and a pleasant ride. Opal looked very cute in the early morning with no noise or commotion to disturb its sweet tranquility. I say Opal lookedcute, because cute is a good word to apply to something very small and faultless.

We were seven to be seated and the seating capacity of two seats can seldom exceed three and must sometimes be limited to two, one for each seat. At this instance the general idea seemed to be that three people should occupy each seat and that the odd person, who was very odd indeed, should proceed to make himself as comfortable as possible upon the mailsacks.

I have heard or read or owing to some other method been made to believe the fact that Iowa’s greatest product in live stock is fat pigs or hogs. It seems very probable to me that people who look from day to day upon this particular species of the animal kingdom must by some method envire certain traits of said animal. This at least must have been true as to environment of shape and development of the two Iowa men between whom I must seat myself. I say ‘seat’ myself but the method which I was forced to use in order to keep myself in the seat could scarcely be said to apply to the position which we term ‘seated’. In order to be seated one must have contact with solid matter with at least a portion of the back of the thighs.

The only contact between myself and any kind of matter at all was from the side of my thighs and the matter which should have been solid was very wabbly and unstable indeed.

Consequently I was not seated until we were some distance on our way. The rocky and frozen road deserve thanks for the appreciable manner in which they made the unstable matter at my sides give way little by little until I finally reached the solid material under me. We rolled smoothly along (how could I at least shake?) through the pass and down the long uneven slope beyond. Four miles of the eighty to be covered before evening, were behind us when we suddenly stopped with a thud and a jerk. The front part of the open-spring-wagon-stage had joyfully succeeded in liberating itself from the rest of the conveyance-machine and had dropped us so hurriedly in its wild joy of achievement. With effort some one in our seat wag able to liberate himself from our wedge position after which achievement the unloading of the rest was less disturbing and more quiet.

Closely muffled and in gay spirits we waited there in the still shivering April morning sun while Sharp, instantly equal to the occasion, unharnessed a horse and galloped back to Opal for repairs.

The minutes passed and the hours were beginning to pass when we spied Sharp again returning over the hills. A few minutes longer and we were again ready, our spirits even higher than before. We had laughed at bad luck and thoughtful Sharp had brought us refreshments, part of which I noticed he did not deal out. I suppose he was considering the possibility of another rest when he witheld them.

Again we rolled along and I was just seated once more when we halted suddenly and everybody looked into a deep surging spring-time channel where there should have been a bridge. Again it was necessary for a certain few to wiggle themselves loose and descend to terra firma. Being one of two privileged members I was allowed to remain in the seat, and at once we started down the creek in search of a less angry crossing. I looked back once just in time to see the two Iowa men go splashing and jumping across the channel. i am sorry I was not there to hear if they grunted, because if they did it would be more evidence of their Iowa environment.

Our experiences in trying to cross the stream were many and various but the greatest event was the saving of our lives by Sharp. I do not mean to imply that our lives were of such great value, but anything involving true heroism is great, therefore, the act of saving our worthless lives was made great by great heroism. I hereby declare that Sharp was and is a hero, made of true heroic material, having saved the lives of two young ladies, one of whom is utterly useless. I told Sharp he was a hero but he did not seem to think so. He no doubt considered the source of the information. (To convince him, however, of my true sincerity and appreciation I left a box of cigarettes to be awarded him as a reward of merit through Charlotte.)

Having finally succeeded in crossing Craven Creek we once more rolled smoothly along, going up several hills and down quite as many. We were in the very heights of good spirits and even Sharp began to think there was no more danger of delays. He dealt out the remaining refreshments, which act was considered proof that all marks of danger and delay were passed. The refreshments consisted of crackers and cheese. To some he gave crackers and others he gave cheese. The cheese was quite odorous but even above this odor rose another more offensive. The cause was soon located by Sharp, but he was all perplexity. The axle of a wheel was badly bent and much heated, it needed grease but where could any be obtained? Never long without resources, Sharp suddenly demanded salve. Salve was right and salve was found and salve was applied to the wheel’s wound. Sharp was about to throw the faithful salve box away, when suddenly becomming more thoughtful of the future, he said, “Cloverine salve” and then put the box in his pocket. The remaining part of the day passed comparitively without any extraordinary occurrences. Jokes, stories, whistling and singing. Sharp said he wanted to cuss but curiously refrained by stuffing his mouth full of cigarettes. Midday meal station was reached at four o’clock and accordingly we had no supper. Ever thoughtful Sharp however saved me a cooky which someone gave him at a station and that helped. Poor kid, he had all kinds of bad luck and finally wound UD by loosing his coat, pipe, watch and ring.

We reached Big Piney at 11:45 P.M. and without any reminders everybody seemed to have made up their minds to go to bed.

Sunday Apr. 6th 1913

Today has been a quiet and uneventful day. (As I Suppose it ought to be.) Hugo rode Dickens up to Dunhums and got home without broken bones or serious accident. Dickens is quite a vicious horse and I have noticed that he switches his tail every time anybody hits him or spurs him sufficiently hard to make him aware of it.

I was forced to put my new dress away today, because every time I looked at it it looked more and more as if it wanted to cuss and that would have been terrible on Sunday. I know it wanted to go to the dance just as bad as I did but just the same it ought not to act so horridly about it.

Monday April 7th

The only thing which happened to-day which was out of the extreme ordinary was that Shorty and Mr. Miller came for dinner and supper. Of course they ate dinner first and then came back for supper. Mr. Miller seems to be a reasonable man but that Shorty is most unreasonable. I was embroidering a yoke for a night gown this evening and Shorty asked me what I was doing. I asked him if he really wanted to know and then he said “No.” I suppose he got afraid but that was unreasonable and cowardly. Mr. Miller is well read and intelligent. I like him because he takes my side in arguments and helps me sass Shorty very nicely They are both sleeping out in the snow, which is healthy for both

Thursday April 10th 1913

I rode down to the Metropolis with “Shorty and his assistant” Tuesday and returned by the same route to-day. That Baldy seems to think he has a right to claim the rights that would follow current report if said report were true. He undoubtedly thinks a grunt is some sweeter language than that of a pig.

Had a very impressive “introduction” to the new Dr. in Pine. He just arrived from Opal a few minutes before said eventful introduction “came off.” He was sitting beside the stove. (Not a very explantory paragraph, but never-the-less verysuggestive.)

Spent a pleasant evening last night at Atwoods, (To-spend evenings at night may Sound odd but it is not impossible.) An evening may be divided into two parts, Before and After. Each part is a distinct division. I like Before the best but most people like the After. One without the other is worse than neither. Both taken to-gether make a peanut and divided each part becomes a chestnut. The conclusion follows that two chestnuts make a peanut which is certainly true. Shorty used to be a chestnut and so was Edith. Together they were a peanut. Now Shorty is a smashed peanut and so is Edith. A smashed peanut is two crushed goodies.

Ellen said this morning as we were crawling out through the bedroom window that she wished some people would keep their troubles to themselves. We all hope that the Book-keeper likes the exact location of his room. (Explanations are unnecessary.) Ellen is a Lily, Billy is a brick, Eddie is a tu-lip and I am a bowl of mush. How must a brick, a tulip, a bowl of mush and a lily be compounded, so as to form two “pears”?

April 11th 1913

Went over to Crafts’ this evening and heard the news from far and near. I recognized a few items which I brought out from Piney to Mrs. Shipley myself, but let Mrs. Craft tell it all as pure news.

News Items

IDoe Dunhum is going to make a spring-wagon out of his auto. They say that his auto was a birthday present from Sears & Roebuck last year.

IIBuster Mclllvain sold his “Red Devil.”

Sat. April 12th 1913

I am over at Shaffers waiting for that stage to come along and pick me up. Harry and I have eaten half the apple sauce and have been spending the last two hours in a rolicking fashion. I am going down to Piney and from thence out to Stanley. Sunday. I wish that Stanley was what it sounds to be. If it were what it sounds to be Stanley would come to me and not I go to Stanley. Here comes that stage at last.

Monday April 14th

My first day teaching my  second bunch of cow-puncher Babes spent to-day. I am thankful for at least one thing regarding this school. There is no horrid bell to ring and call me back to duty so suddenly.

I am staying with Daniels. Daniels is a family name and supplies to the whole family. Mrs. Daniels is fairly in love with Ellen. She compares everything I have and everything I do with something that Ellen has and something that Ellen does. Gee-whiz: I awoke last night and found myself with my arm around Mrs. Daniels almost squeezing her to a smother. It was the purest and most shocking accident for several days. Ellen can just have all of her love. I think that some people have

not enough sense to love anybody really truly hard but Mrs. Daniels has enough sense to love the right thing.

Friday April 18th 1913

One whole long week of school is completed. “I feel so lonely so alone and weary”. The sun has been shining up on the mountains all day long, but down here it has scarcely shone at all. I would like to see somebody who is not a stranger to me. Even my trunk if they would only bring it out would at least look familiar to me, I think I shall go home, this school house looks like a potatoe bug and I feel

like a weeping willow. At least I feel like the weeping if I don’t feel like the willow. I no doubt look like the willow.

Tuesday April 22nd 1913

Nothing doing but Blanche and I have decided to go to Montana and teach about next fall. Wyoming is good but so is Montana. (all nonsense.)

There was a little breeze from the East that blew through here last week. The boys around here didn’t like such hot air at this time of the year so they drove him out of the country. Snowdrifts

and Eastern winds do not look good to-gether. The cow-boys have pretty good taste in most things but sometimes forget judgment, let me prove: – Last night I ate a piece of cake that B.D. had made. It wasn’t really cake but just “stuff”, but he ate it and said it was the first cake he had eaten that he didn’t feel like putting into capsules.

Monday Apr. 27th 1913

Mrs. Shideler and I went to Piney yesterday. I thought I would certainly see Ellen but she had gone home. That Baldy acts quite dippy. Dippy means to act the way one feels when one feels the way one shouldn’t act.

Mr. Miller wouldn’t act the way he didn’t feel but he wouldn’t feel the way he shouldn’t act.

I am going to buy a horse right away quick so that I do not have to be penned up so closely. Any body who can stand to be penned up is a chicken with his wings clipped off. A chicken with clipped wings is a fright. I wrote a letter to Mrs. Terrill last night. (very important) Miss Mabel hasn’t yet answered my 97 page letter. I should like see her.

Tuesday Apr. 28th 1913.

Nothing at all to report. How smooth and peaceful life can be. Blanch could not come to school yesterday because she sat up until 5:00 o’clock A.M. talking to Red. No wonder Blanche’s eyes are weak, I looked at him for just a moment last Sunday and my eyes were even then getting sore. Buckshot told the branding crew something terribly funny about Blanch. Buckshot really ought to warn Reddy.

I want to see Ellen so badly I can hardly wait.

Monday May 5th 1913

Back on duty. I went home Friday evening after school, reached Piney at 6:00. Ellen tried to get a pony to go out from Piney but was unsuccessful so she and I rode out double on my pony. I don’t blame Miller so very much but I do blame Shorty a great deal. (for what?) I guess Miller was cold but that Shorty looks hot enough for both. I can only think deep enough about Shorty to imagine what a cute watch charm he would make.

It was quite late when Ellen and i reached home and found everybody in bed, (Mamma makes a funny noise when she gets frightened.) Upon searching muddy we found that even singing would not circulate our blood fast enough so we considered walking but decided that we would shiver ourselves warm. Mamma made us some nice coffee and served us some nice coffee-cake accompanied by a roaring fire after which our spirits were again high. About 12:00 o’clock we began considering attending the Stout dance and since consideration of a subject always develops action we started for that point about 1:00 A.M. We danced until broad daylight and returned home. I returned to Stanley via

Piney Sunday. Miller is quite nice but seems quite “shivery”. Ellen said I could talk to him but when I accidently met him and he treated me on candy she made a face at me.

Monday May 12 1913

My thirty mile trip out home comes quite regular lately. I rode out Saturday and led my branch which was quite a task. A very nice cow-puncher caught up with me just beyond Marbleton and we rode out to-gether. (of course). I don’t know how really nice he was or rather is but he did have a big sack of candy – a great big sack, it was. I hope he has just as hard a time finding out who I am as I have finding out who he is. I didn’t see Miller at all which was a disappointment. It was a disappointment because I thought I would see him and I didn’t. I don’t care at all Pat. Baldy is a terrible thing but he gave me all of his doughnut which was quite generous. Miller never would do that. It took Wallace and I four hours to ride out from Piney which was certainly terrible considering the speed which we might have exerted. It is an easy matter to scare Wallace. Well good-bye Pat I must ride up to Mills’ to-night before I go home. Sabe?

Tuesday May 20th 1913

The most important event which has occured lately is of such little consequence that I will not record it. The smallest event, however, is of such great consequence that I will record it immediately. I have lost nearly all the buttons off my shoes and consequently cannot button them. This is of great importance if considered from the right standpoint.

I went out home again last Saturday morning. (which makes it nice).  Ellen was there when I came. (which makes it nice again) Good Enough and I had a dandy swim in the muddy. I rode out from Piney with the Piney doctor and he isn’t the least bit nice. He makes his horse go on one continual slow poky walk and he keeps saying the same thing about the country over and over again. He would hardly believe that I was from “the East”, which I take as a compliment. I met Miller Sunday evening in the Piney lane and he said he wasn’t cold. I cannot understand why he wasn’t cold, but I suppose it was straight goods. I received a letter from Hilma Sholund and she wants me to stay with them and attend

Washburn College which I would certainly like to do. I must put this behind the blackboard and shake the cow-bell immediately.

Wednesday June 18 1913

Quite a few days have passed since I scribbled here last but not very much of importance has happened. Had a nice time at the dance in Piney Monday night. I don’t know what made it a nice time but it was, so good-bye. Miller tries to handle hot air.

Thursday June 19

Had all kinds of fun last night. The first part of the evening wasn’t “so much fun; but the latter part did very well. Harry almost spoiled the whole evening by his crazy proposal. I told him “Nothing

Stirring” and tried to forget about it but I couldn’t right away. To save the evening, along came Jimmie Jensen and Leo Harsh. Blanche acted smart and after a while she and Jimmie jumped on the coyuses

standing at the gate. It was dark in the kitchen and I didn’t want to stay there alone with Leo so we decided to find out if there ware any horses in the corrals. We were unable to find any so I suggested that we find the Jack mule which we did. It was awful funny but we finally got him bridled and just as we got to the corral gate he began playing his band music and Leo could hardly make him stop. When we finally got through the gate Mrs. Daniels came out of her bed room door and began calling Blanch. We didn’t want her to see us so we kicked the mule but didn’t say a word, except to tell each other not to answer her. We took the ride and returned and sat in the swing awhile after which we happened to remember that we ought to go into the house. Blanch made Jimmie go home, I suppose she happened to remember Jesse, and after Blanch and Jimmie had gone Leopretty soon remembered to do the  same. Taking all things into consideration I believe I will sweep the floor and depart.

Thursday July 9th 1913

Nothing flies faster than time, unless it is Good Enough when she sees a donkey and I am riding her. Received a ten stamp letter from Du— this morning. Would like to be in Burlingame for a change. Received a letter from Kansas City yesterday but can only express my thoughts poetically about. It makes me feel something like this —

Are he gone and is he went,

Will him never come to me,

It cannot was.

(2)Won’t I meet his at the door,

Wont he greet I as before,

Oh,. it cannot was.

(3)Wont his see me like before,

cant I no more make him sore,

Oh it cannot was, it cannot was.

(4)Perhaps I meet he over there,

We might be in angel care,

No, that cannot was, cannot was.

(5)Mabe so that we don’t care,

Mabe yes we happy fare,

Sure that can was.

(6)Mabe yes we sometime die,

Mabe so the other cry,

Can it was? It can not was.

Thursday Sept., 11th 1913

Now I am positive that I am going to die. I just feel it all over myself and I am glad of it. There are nearly eleven more weeks of school and I am glad I will, not have to teach anymore. “Entyway” I hope somebody will feel a little sorry when they read my obituary. Just think of that thing of a Billy sticking in the mud somewhere between Opal and Big Piney. As the mail stage comes along, Sharpe will throw him a “Marbleton Republican” and standing there with thick mud up to his shoulders he will read about my death. He will know I died of lonesomeness and as he reads, tears of joy will roll down his cheeks and gradually the solid mud around him will melt and the torrent of joy-tears will carry all the mud away and Billy will be free. He will whip up his starving and famishing horses and hurry to Marbleton. Then as quickly as quickly as can be he will go for Miss Elizabeth (Eliza-take-a-bath) and together they will come to my funeral.

September 17th 1913

In the first place a day like today ought not to be at all. If anything happens on a day that ought not to be a day, whatever happened ought not to have happened. If anything had happened to-day it would not have been right. Nothing happened to-day, therefore today was not a day.

Paul Roth happened one day, which day I do not think really was a day. If Paul Roth happened on a day that was not a day, how can Paul Roth be right? If Paul Roth is not right he must be wrong. If he is not right side out he must be wrong-side out. If Paul is wrong side out he is crazy. If he is crazy he ought not to exist. If he exists and ought not to exist he is nothing. Nothing happens on a day which is not a day, therefore if Paul happened, nothing must have happend7 but Paul happend, therefore my conclusion follows that Paul is nothing. Oh Christmas: It is five o’clock and we have vegetable soup to-night so Good-Night Steve.

Sept. 19th 1913 Fri. 19th P.M.

I just feel as though I cannot keep from going home this evening but there are several reasons why I am not going.

1st. It would please me to much to think I was going.

2ndIt might please Billy too much also. It is not well for anyone to be too much pleased.

3rd.I promised to spend to-morrow with Mrs. R. H. Mills.

4I promised myself a whole long run-away Sunday to spend in the willows reading. I am not going to anybody that I do not intend to be bothered by anybody. Ellen or Bobby or Billy could come, but no one else and they could not all come. Only one would be allowed.

Thursday Oct. 2nd 1913

There is a dance in Piney town to-night but I am not going. I am getting too fat and wobbly to dance “enty way”. This is the way a number 18 corset fits me. Think of weighing one hundred and sixteen pounds!*!

And it happened in the year 1913 that a marvelous personage was found in the vicinity of Stanley, Wyoming. All endeavor and cunning which could be used to advantage was exercised in a vain effort to find out who the mysterious person could be. No die could be obtained as to as to parentage or kindred and she was named “Fatness” from her appearance. Fatness increased in bulk so noticeab1y from day to day that at last she could no longer live, with, or associate with any of the human race. One day, sad to relate, she was walking lonely and contemplatively between two hills, when lo and behold, before she was able to reach the end of the canyon her size had increased to such an extent that she could not move out of her wedge position and was squeezed to death in the loving embrace of the two hills. Thus died this great fat unequaled wonder.

Monday Nov. 23rd 1914(Hannibal, Mo.)

More than a year has passed since I last wrote in this diary. How marvelously short the year has been yet how many and how great the changes are. As I pause in writing so many experiences pass again through my mind – the faces and words of so many people are again before me. How strangely some look or expression seems to fasten itself to ones memory to be reviewed again and again with such nearness and vividness. There is Billy, Mother, brothers & sisters, Mrs. Terrill, Mabel and so many others that serve to complete the background of my memories. How far away they all seem to be – how impossible seems some of the distance that time has put between some of us. Mabel whom once seemed so near to me no matter what the distance in miles – how I would like to see you to-day – how I would like to break the barrier of time between us. Little College Junior that you are – you have left me in climbing for education because I am alone to fight against the odds which the world has built against me, but I will follow for I can feel the spirit of the years before me. How brightly the memory of your sunny winning generous nature lights the path ahead of me even as it so often has been lit behind me by you. Mrs. Terril1: you to whom I always felt and still feel so near yet toward whom I always appeared to feel aloof – how often do I look at your picture when I am lonesome and I feel comforted by it. How deep, how knowing, how painfully experienced and sweet your face is – what a world of comfort your presence is to-day to those about you! Sometimes even you are lonesome – I know you are – you want somebody near you whom you cannot have – you think something for which you are striving is useless and lost and I know there are tears in your eyes at such times. My experiences, different as they may be from yours, still make me feel that the same spirit which has helped you will help me and sometimes when i think of and look at you I feel almost to want to rush at the future with such fierceness that time cannot even stand in my way. You have not forgotten me by far – I know that positively, but I am with

you now as a memory — as one of your many many memories – sometimes you think of me deeply but almost as you think of the preface of some book which you have read – the story of which you couldnot read because of some circumstance. Yet if you could but know how surely you are stamped into my past and future into some of my very nature and actions. Yours and Mabels last letters are still unanswered and I cannot say why. Mother when I think of you I feel you rush over me like some protecting calm. You have fought where I am fighting and passed where I will pass in the near future. The fear of something unknown which creeps over me, the deep pangs which those we love sometimes thoughtlessly give, these emotions you seem to soothe as your presence often soothed me in my childhood. That little sentence written on the margin of Hildurs letter which I received to-day – just a little expression of love and a greeting, has cheered me all day long. Ellen and Hildur of you I feel almost farther advanced in experience than the difference in years would seemingly permit. Dear little beings without whom I would feel isolated, Ellen to whom I cling mentally almost constantly – how dear and pure and lovable you are, yet how unconscious of your worth. The very fact that you cannot see yourself in your true relation to others shows shows how deep unconscious real worth is of self. Little Tid, my witty self-willed little sister not for millions would I put in your place any other. How original and bright are your actions and words and how much love you have in your little heart. Hugo to you I can give true admiration, How few young men ever reach to your standard. You seem to be or rather to force yourself to be entirely void of faults so often found in your sex. Thoughtful and morally strong you embody all worth. Little Brother that has so good an opportunity you are like a very spring of resource in your action. How different this world would be with environment such as yours for all.

Billy, my own Billy, to whom I have given everything of which I am made. You are so deep in your feelings and so unconscious of the effect of your actions over me. Not for worlds would you at heart hurt me but you feel so irresponsible for yourself. Dearest Man there is no power on earth which could induce me to give you up. You shall and you will conquer the demon of drink for yourself, for me and for our little unborn Babe. Though I battle through my whole life to wake you I know it shall be done. Handsome, young, and powerful in so many ways do you think that any action of yours can utterly discourage me? When I love you so deeply now do you imagine I will ever from any cause cease to love you? Man that you are – for one single caress or word of praise from you I gladly work for hours, for days, weeks, and months. One word of anger or reproof from you seems to me a very torment yet I am not too weak to do with purpose that which I think might accomplish so much for you in return. Dearest Billy, you are so much to me that for you alone could I endure the sacrifice which I feel certain I will be compelled to follow.

You my little Babe of the near future – you seem so sacred that I do not feel that I ought to write to you with my natural hand writing. Could you but know the part you must play in the drama of life of your father and mother: Ah my Little Billy surely you will be capable of any miracle. My little Babe if you never live to remember your Mother – if I am not to live for you my little Billy – do for your father what I would give my life time to do. To you my little son or daughter I may leave the task for which I would gladly live through any torture to accomplish. Save your father from the demon of drink – from his irresponsible feeling. My little dear you will, some day be a man or a woman. Make yourself so strong and pure that the moral degradations of the world will cause you to shudder with fear. Little Billy if you are a son shun for those whom love you and whom you love the degrader – the saloon. For your wife whom you will some day love you must nourish in yourself the best and truest arid purest that could come into your life. To her, my son, give yourself from the very bottom of your heart – learn to understand how nature has endowed a true woman with emotions deeper than any abyss. Be a man such that people will feel you – such a man that my fondest hopes may not be in vain. If you fall do not give up – it is placing the time when we shall do better in the future that causes the harm. Your father expects always to conquer in the future – of course it could not be the past — but ah that future which is always ahead of the present. The sorrow caused in waiting for that future is often so great that even future can never heal the wounds.

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