My Dear Diary,
Why don’t you appreciate gown-ups until they’re not there? Mother and Father have left and I can’t ask them. Marjorie’s are far away and we can’t wait that long for a reply. Even my brother is too far away to wait for a reply from, I still haven’t had his reply for my last letter yet. Jo’s parents are under quarantine and we can’t ask them either.
A letter arrived for Bobbie the other day and Gladys gave it to us rather than her. She’s a good girl, Gladys, and she did the right thing but the selfish part of me doesn’t like the fact that now it’s our problem. You see, it wasn’t a letter for Bobbie, but rather from her. It was the one she sent that bounced back. It came back again, but this time it had written across the front:
“No longer at this address. Current occupants do not have forwarding address. Return to sender. Undeliverable.”
This is why her letters haven’t been getting home.
Jo told me that Bobbie said her parents had a surprise for her on the way home, could it be they’ve bought a new house? Jo thinks so but while I can understand the joy of giving someone a nice surprise it is a rather heartless way to go about moving. Wouldn’t her parents have considered that maybe she might write home and find out that way? Or that she’d have a secret place in her garden that she’d like to say goodbye to? No matter how wonderful their new home is won’t Bobbie still be sad not to say goodbye to her old one?
Then again, I’m not sure if Bobbie’s Parents are as wonderful as she makes out. Surely a doting mother leaving her only child for the first time in her life would have at the very least made the effort to write once. She could have at least sent a letter from Fraitessa on the day she left.
But it leaves us with the question of what to do about the letter. We can’t not give it to her as she’s been waiting for it. We haven’t decided what to say yet but we have decided not until after the soiree tomorrow night. Bobbie deserves to enjoy that no matter what. Of course, Jo expects me to come up with what to say which is unfair as she’s her best friend, but for some reason people just expect me to know the right thing to do.
Time to get my thinking head on.