4 Feb 1939
Dorothy Griffin to Maude / Washington D.C.
Dear Mother Griffin:
I am truly sorry not to have written before to thank you for helping to make my birthday so delightful. As you know, I am very fond of birthday greetings, and I have added my gay little present to my quite considerable collection. And the candy was super-extra special -- it always seems the nicest treat of the whole year, and did so especially this birthday, as the Christmas candy somehow had become hard by the time it reached us. Finally, the matching piece of copper is lovely, but altogether you did to much for me. Sometime, though, when you are thinking about Christmas maybe, I wish you would make me one of your dolls. You have probably made several to pay for the gifts you send us, and yet I can think of nothing I would appreciate as much as your own handwork. The lovely white cloth that you sent me one birthday is one of my prize possessions, and has been a very useful one too. Any time I have an extraordinary dinner for four I feel that its success is half made with the knowledge that I have that gorgeous cloth. Its ends fall to the floor, and with tall candles and rosebuds I have never seen a nicer looking background for a nice dinner. And the two adorable aprons you sent me last year have caused more comment than any I have. But of course I'll wear those out. The tablecloth I hope to keep always, and use on state occasions (as Ben would say). But I could keep a doll for always, and if I have a little girl ever she could add it to her collection (I can think of nothing nicer for a girl's hobby than a limited collection of really good dolls, although my sole interest was in paper dolls).
Speaking of dolls, it was an article in The American Home about dolls that caused me to suggest to John to get you a subscription for Christmas. I hope you enjoy it. It has some very interesting articles on hobbies at times, and two issues this spring will he almost entirely on the two fairs in San Francisco and New York.
As I said once before, I hate writing of trouble because so often it has dissolved or been mended before the letter reaches you, but since evrerything seems to be under control for the time being you had better hear of all our illnesses from us, before someone else magnifies them to you.
Mother has been seriously ill, and the doctor diagnosed it as a nervious disorder, bordering upon nervous exhaustion. This in turn affected her kidneys (her weakest organ), and it will be some tine, with a good deal of rest and care, before she is normal again. Just this week she is up again, but tires very easily, cannot stand much noise or exertion. I will be so glad when she can go out home for a chap change and rest, because I think she needs to be away from all of her responsibilities for a while.
It must have been almost two weeks ago now that Bob's temperature flew up to 105.8 in less than eight hours. John and I were both frantic -- Dr. Smith was in Florida, his assistant out on a case where there was no phone -- we called two other doctors who were both out on cases and finally were able to get a doctor, who when he had examined the baby, was unable to diagnose his sickness. His throat was somewhat inflamed, but not indicative of any one thing, his lungs were in good condition, he had no cold, and while he may have been cutting some back teeth, they should never have caused such a high temperature. So with enemas, tepid sponge baths and forced fluids we kept his temperature down to 102 and 101 for nearly four days -- and he is just now getting back in condition. This was Bobbie's first illness, and we had just been congratulating ourselves on how lucky we were to have kept him from any sickness that would impede his development.
We are keeping our fingers crossed now, hoping that we have had our share of sickness this winter. The young fella seems to be quite normal again, and the memories of all the rascal is doing now are going to be priceless. He's a fox at winning us over, and understands all we have to say in connection with him. He'll fetch his clothes to us when we ask, go after his milk, and though his lingo is not understandable he says "There it is" when he sees, finds or hears anything we ask about. He's a little mixed up about courtesy as he hasn't the slightest idea what "please" means, but says "thank you" very nicely and if we want anything from him we say "thank you" in advance. They are magic words, (so far) as he has never refused to give us anything, no matter how precious to him, if we say them. He has the cutest giggle I've ever heard -- but oh, his hair is a problem. Its just like mine; straight and unmanageable and strictly Norwegian.
We were glad to hear from Elsie, and she sounds thrilled to pieces about her coming trip. How I would like to go with her, I think at times, and then at others I realize how impractical and selfish it would be of me to spend the money that would mean the beginning of a home for us. People have to do those things when they are single, like Elsie, because there is so much else after marriage. And I could never leave Bobby for a couple of months, as I'd. worry and fret over him too much to enjoy myself, and on the other hand I couldn't take him on such a trip so young, as I think it would be too hard on him. Maybe some day John and I can both go on an ocean trip together. I hope so. Meanwhile we have so much happiness here that I wouldn't want to alter, even for a few months. I say all this, because I have yearned to go to France and England and Sweden for years, and John even suggests that I should go now -- but as I said, the time to go is when ties of little fingers are not so strong, so Elsie is wise to go now. We are looking forward to seeing her on the way.
Love, Dorothy.
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