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Where Brenda has
earned to live
for Bill's return
as told to Maude Cheatham
out of my loneliness I was learning many wonderful things. At the risk of sounding too philosophical and complacent, I want to say that I think what we are learning through our very loneliness will serve us well the remainder of our lives. I know I am stronger, more self-reliant, and have gained new perspectives.
Memories — warm, living memories — have taught me so much. Our little secret anniversaries take on a new significance now. Bill's spontaneous compliments and endearing phrases, which I so love; our arguments — oh, we have them but they never reach the torrid stage. And Bill insists that we show the height of our congeniality by always agreeing on radio programs.
We are completely happy together and this home is our haven. It is the first real home I ever had. It also offers a place of security for my fouryear-old daughter, Virginia. Bill used photoplay combined with movie mirror, jvly, 1943
to say, "We must establish a steady home, something substantial that will endure. Living is the greatest of all adventures and we must enjoy it to the fullest." And so, in some intangible way, he put himself into everything that built this home.
I always side-stepped responsibilities when possible, and disliked small details, but since Bill left I have taken on many of his duties. I think and decide for us both. Not only must I manage the home, but also qualify as a country gentleman, for we have four acres and these require much attention. I've put everything on a cash basis to simplify the bookkeeping. I keep a pad on my night table under the alarm clock and during the wakeful hours when these multiplied responsibilities pile up like an ogre threatening me, I jot down reminders. Such as: See that the garden is watered on both sides, check on the garage
latch, phone the plumber about that leak, see that the car is greased. There's always a long list.
In addition to all this, I have my daughter to rear, and a career that now more than ever must bear fruit. So, with more duties and responsibilities, I have less and less time to fret. Which is good. There's no formula for banishing the blues like keeping busy. It turns one from exaggerating what seems to be individual problems, when, after all, these very same experiences are being shared the world over.
When Bill left, the true value of genuine friendship came to me. Mona and Richard Carlson, the John Beals, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz urged me to go about with them instead of moping at home. They were darlings, doing everything to make it easier, but somehow I couldn't go on with it. Surrounded by a crowd I seemed to be more (Continued on page 98)
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