Diary unveiling kinsfolk 21, 1911

Today was cold and wet. live out for a paseo anyway. The leaf are starting to turn and the damp makes their colouring all the More intense. I so like Jonathan was here to take the air with me. I walked foresighted than I should and was quite chilled when I returned. I am never cold when he is with me.

journal entering Sep 22, 1911

Awoke this sunup very tight in my bureau. I know it is just a minor congestion from too a good deal walk in the rainfall, but Mother insisted on calling Dr. Judith Jamison. He confirmed my diagnosing, prescribed a day in bed and respective doses of a foul elixir. It was another rainy and stale day so I had little desire to go out in any cause. I used the time to write a letter of the alphabet to my beloved Jonathan.

***

Mr. Jonathan Douglas

Hotel Central Room 238

59 East Main Street

Chicago Illinois

Dearest Jonathan :

I am forced to bed today by a trivial over-crowding. You know how I hate confinement. But at to the lowest degree I have time to write and that offers lots consolation. I count the minutes till you return and we are forever joined. I can not say enough how happy it makes me knowing that I will soon be your wife.

Yesterday I went for a walk, in nastiness of the inclement weather. I walked up to the burial site and placed flowers at the incoming to the family vault where my lamb babe Clarissa lies. It is such a lovely berth, especially this time of year as the leaves cover the gage with their blanket of red, yellow and orange. The leg of a not bad oak spread over the entrance, sheltering it. It is such a peaceful, ruminative place, I always feel refreshed when I come. I think it is because, for a while, whatever pains I feel or problems are before me, they seem to meld to pettiness as I contemplate the perfect eonian peace, that Clarissa now knows and that we too will get hold in God 's own time. I feel her presence so close as I stand there, beside her resting position. She was always so well-chosen, in nastiness of the frailty that plagued her since birth. She died two years ago, on the day that will be our wedding day. I still recall how, in her terminal present moment, she took my script and smiled, whispering `` perhaps, when next we meet, I shall finally outwit you at badminton ''. Then a serene formula came to her brass and she quietly drifted away.

Oh, Jonathan, I do so wish she could be here to share our happy day. Yet I know I will finger her presence, smiling down from heaven, so happy for my happiness. On easy content, the mansion is in a state of such entire confusion you would think the marriage was tomorrow. mother is running this way and that, threefold checking on prime, food for the reception, accommodations for guests, and on and on. I do bid you were here to bestow a calming influence.

Oh Jonathan, please anticipate me that you will let nothing hold up your reappearance and that no matter what happens, we will be united on the appointed day.

All my unceasing Love

Leona

***

Sept. 23

Bright and sunny, some tightness remains, but my mood is as gay as the bright orange and lily-livered parting. Had what should be the net accommodation on my gown. I ca n't think that in only three weeks I will wear it down the aisle and become Mrs. Jonathan Douglas ! Words can not express the joy I feel.

September 24

Awoke this morning with horrible coughing. It cleared after a patch but the good doctor ordered me to bed and plied me with to a greater extent of his horrific elixir. He seemed quite engrave, the old fool. None the LE, I am glad that almost everything is gear up for the wedding, so I can take a few days to remain and recover. In only seven days my honey diddly-squat payoff from his travels. I count the 60 minutes till he can entertain me in his arms again.

Sep 25

This morning was cold and damp, I awoke again with much coughing and tactual sensation chilled. It passed by noontide but I remained in bed all day, feeling light and exhaust. The medico came, and went again. He was as reassuring as usual, but I noted a touch of business organization in his articulation. Mother too, seemed a bit anxious after speaking with him. I, however, am so certain that nothing will interfere with our happiness, that I discount their headache. I know it is a trivial complaint and I shall be up and about in no clock time. For the present I shall bask the chance to rest and escape from Mother 's constant flurry.

Sept 26

Today started much like yesterday, but it was well yesteryear noon before felt well enough to sit up and lead a footling food. The niggardness in my chest persists even yet. Initially I was gladiolus of the rest, but now I feel imprisoned. The MD came and went, again, after forcing me to take Sir Thomas More of his awful medicine. I do so wish this ailment would pass. I feel I have so much to do. Heaven forbid that my beloved Jonathan should rejoin from his journey and find me still confined to my bed.

Sep 27

Today I confronted the doctor about my illness, upon which his foul elixirs seem to have no essence. He tried to avoid the question and say it was nothing, but I could severalise he was not telling all and I persisted. Finally his face took on a grave expression. He told me he thought I was a warm womanhood who could present the verity, he proceeded to tell me that I was suffering from the Lapplander ailment of the heart and soul and lung that claimed my near sister. Of course he is a perfect fool ! How could he think such a matter !

Sept 28

Still forced to bed. The irritation seems high-risk. It is all so unfair ! That I, a cleaning woman of such pattern energy, should be struck down in this way. I hate the morbid weeping faces of those convinced of my subjective expiry ! I hate the voicelessness outside my door ! What are they hiding from me ? That they are already planning my funeral ? ! The stupid gull ! I wish they would all leave well enough alone.

Sept 29

Oh please God ! If this is too be my destiny at least let me be united with my beloved on our appointed day. Please give me that practically time ! Then I can leave this world contented in my brief but perfect happiness. I promise to set a good example by my passage as did my darling sister if only you will founder me that very much time.

Sept 30

I feel very weak today. What little sense of hope I had has washed away in the irksome drizzle that continues to fall external. Somehow I know that the Doctor of the Church was right, and I shall not be the uncommon exception who survives this disease. My nightie was delivered this morning, but it brought little joy to the sign of the zodiac, the package sits in the hall unopened. It all seems so pointless. The weeks of planning, all for aught. I do n't even know why I bother to stay fresh this record that none will profit by.

October 1

My high-priced Jonathan arrived today, and while the circumstances saddened us both, I feel so much better knowing he is here. The sun also returned to brighten my way. I no longer hope for recovery. I can not help but finger the end is close. Yet somehow, today that seems More a consecrate relief than tragic end. My only regard is that I come to my end with grace.

sire assured me that I would be laid beside Clarissa. He also assured me that, even though Jonathan was not technically a member of the home, they consider him as a son already, and that, should he choose, he could be laid beside me, in God 's own time.

October 2

I had the most wondrous dream stopping point Nox. I was walking in the cemetery, near the family vault, and there I met my dear sis Clarissa. She was standing by the itinerary, dressed in the beautiful dress in which she was laid to rest. It was obvious that she was waiting for me because, as I approached, she smiled and greeted me, `` Oh, there you are ! cum, I have something to render you '' She lead me to the vault and the expectant iron door simply dissolved before us. I followed her in to where three low stone tables stood. The first gear held a closed coffin, the second held an afford coffin lined with beautiful white satin and lacing. The thirdly was empty.

'' This is my office '' she said, gesturing to the unopen coffin. `` Here is yours '', she said, stepping to the empty, open casket. `` And this is for your beloved Jonathan, if he so chooses '' `` seminal fluid, proceeds your rest '' I stepped up and into the spread out empty coffin, and lay down. It felt so safe, tranquillize, and peaceful. When I awoke, I was lying on my back, my hands folded as if I were laid for burial. I felt more peaceful and refreshed than I have for many days.

October 3

The undertaker came this morning. I looked through his record book and ***********ed a casket. A rather simple design of whitened enameled woodwind instrument, lined with satin. He took some measurements, and we discussed the details of the armed service. I told him that the wedding prime would do for my funeral as well. I told him my wedding gown and veil to be used for my burial garments. I do want Jonathan to see me in my nuptials night-robe, even if it is to be as I lie in my coffin. We discussed my funeral as calmly as I discussed my wedding a few workweek ago. Only now does that seem strange.

Oct 4

I feel so feeble today, Jonathan has been here with me all day. It is such a quilt to know he is close. The priest came today as well. For a piece we discussed the service, and what would materialize to me. He spoke of the beauties of heaven, and did his best to re-assure me. Still, I know the end is near, and I am so afraid. Oh God, please ... please ... give me peace.

***

October 5

Here the diary sketch in another bridge player

I, Jonathan Douglas, summarise this diary, that the events concerning the passage of my beloved Leona may be recorded for descendants. Yesterday Nox she took this from beneath her pillow and pressed it into my hand, saying she could drop a line no more and the contents might put up me some comfortableness. After she had gone to kip, I did show, and found great comforter in her tranquil acceptance of the tragedy which has befallen her.

Today I witnessed the passage, or should I say the idealization, of an holy man, for surely she will be among the fairest of all the comely angels in heaven. I pray that I do not imprecate in this belief.

I was with my dearest Leona when she awoke, in much distress. She was feverish and coughing, and seemed very weak, but then about midmorning a strange and beautiful calm came over her, and she seemed distant as if she was watching something far away. Of all the people in the room, she seemed to be mindful of only me. She lay this way for some meter, unmindful to all, even the priest who came to say the last rite. Then about high noon, she squeezed my hand and smiled,

'' Look Jonathan '' she said, `` its Clarissa ! '' `` She 's here for our marriage ceremony ! '' `` I knew she would arrive ''

Then she turned to me and said `` Oh my beloved Jonathan. Now everything is double-dyed ! ``

With that she closed her optic and quietly breathed her last. I stayed long by her side, reluctant to let her go.

October 7th

The Mortician has done his duty. He took Leona from us, and returned her this morning.

Now she rests in the living room. My God ! she is beautiful, even in death. She lies there dressed forever in the nightgown that she should have worn to our wedding in only three mean solar day. She seems so peaceful, so glad, as she lies surrounded by flowers, the same Patrick White flowers that were meant for our well-chosen day. Instead they will grace her grave.

Tomorrow we will lease her to church, and thence to the bank vault where she will lie for eternity. Her Father told me that, there is a place for me there too, should I desire it in time. I feel now that we will be together again soon. For what is a human lifetime in the brass of timelessness ! This mentation gives me enceinte peace.

Oct 11

I pray that this diary may remain hidden for many eld that what I record now may not lend overplus upon my family or the family of any mentioned here. For I have kept my promise to my beloved Leona.

At crepuscle yesterday, I went to the crypt where she lies at peace. In my company was the cemetery grounds custodian, who for a few discrete dollar mark, opened the burial vault that I might enter. Also in my company was a priest, fallen from grace of God with the church for his passion for various wickedness of the flesh, the extent of which only I know. I swore not to bring out my cognition providing that he assisted me and never revealed these proceedings. Upon entering the hurdle I opened the casket holding the earthly remains of my Saint Bridget, and once again stood silent, amazed at her beauty, as she lay so peaceful and still, in all her wedding finery. Next I opened the casket of her sis which lay beside her, for if my beloved Leona had her wish, Clarissa would have stood beside us at the altar as her housemaid of honor. Clarissa too, lay as if peacefully asleep, still lovely in her repose, despite the passage of meter since she was laid here.

I stood beside my beloved as the priest read the spousal relationship vows, holding her frigidity, lifeless hand. I pledged to necessitate her as my wife, and I answered for her as I knew she would toast to engage me for her husband. With the Son `` with this ring I do wed '' I placed the favourable band on her pale inhuman finger. And when the priest pronounced us man and wife, I raised the veil from her face and gently kissed her frigidity lifeless backtalk. I then bid the priest depart, and remained alone in the crypt with my beloved. I lifted her from her resting office, and holding her stopping point, we slowly turned about the room. Her lovely gabardine dress swept the common cold Lucy Stone as we danced our wedding party waltz. My own desire steadily grew as I swayed with her physical structure held tight to mine.

When at last the music in my own head came to a close, I laid her again in her coffin, which was her bridal bed. Not an unfitting bed I thought, admiring the elegant flannel satin and lace on which she lay. Lifting the veil from her face, I gently kissed her and caressed her face. I stroked her breasts, so firm and nerveless beneath her satin gown. All the while the passion for her grew in me until I could place upright it no longer. Lifting the skirt of her clothes, to let on her femininity, I opened my pants to expose my maleness. I climbed into the jewel casket and lay atop my beloved, becoming one with her as we would have on our wedding dark. Holding her in my passionate embracement, kissing and caressing her cold, still font, I gave her the final giving of our making love, and left her with something of myself to persist with her for the ages. I lay thus with her foresighted after my forcible need was slaked, my read/write head resting on her satin covered breast, gently stroking her silklike hair. Somehow I sensed that she was at peace, and for a spell at least, I shared that peace.

The good morning sun was penetrating the small stained field glass window of the hurdle room access when I reluctantly rose and separated myself from my beloved. I arranged her dress neatly about her leg and folded her hands once again at her waist. From the fragrance around the bier I ***********ed a unmarried perfect white rose and placed it in her hands. I gave her cold lips a final osculation and gently lowered the silky veil over her typeface. She looked so peaceable, so serene, so beautiful. It was with great difficultness that I closed the casket and left her to her Jehovah concluding rest. The dayspring sun shown brightly as I left the vault. I was filled with a great sense of joy that made the day seem all the brighter, for it seemed all around me I sensed the presence of my beloved Leona. I saw her smile in the dappled sunlight. I heard her laugh in the rustling leaves. I felt her caress in the gentle breeze. Together we walked from the place and back to my everyday humankind. Yet I know my life, what ever remains of it, will never be the same, for always I will be remembering her with joy, and longing for our final perfect union

Here ends the journal of Leona Zimmerman Stephen Arnold Douglas ...