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#1072: Willa Cather to Dorothy Canfield Fisher, [early September 1931]

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Dear Dorothy1;

My poor mother3 died on Monday the 31st. There was no boat out from here2 until Wednesday, so I could not even try to get to the services, which were held in Red Cloud4 on Thursday afternoon. My brother5 and sister6 left Pasadena7 with mother’s body Monday night and two other brothers8 joined them on the way home. For mother’s sake I am glad it is over–before her mind began to fail. The end was sudden–pneumonia. I shall stay on here through September and then I must go to my poor brother who has lived solely for his mother for three years and a half. I feel a good deal like a ghost myself, and I know it is much worse for him. Goodbye, I know you’ll be sorry, my dear. It seems strange to me that you and I are now the “older generation.” I never thought of that before.

Lovingly Willa