Journal, December 4, 1976 PM

Poor Doña Carmen, her mother is very bad. She is going crazy from the strain. Last night she paid a special mass to be said for her mother, on the occasion of them taking her to the hospital to undergo an operation. There’s no question the woman (Carmen’s mother) is dying. It’s only a matter of time. Jan & I saw the lady when we were here last February, and Jan commented then that she looked like death warmed over. It’s terrible to say, but I hope she dies while I’m home for Christmas. Doña Carmen is already to the point where I can’t count on her to wash or iron my clothes or anything. When her mother dies she may lose complete hold of herself. I should talk. I’m far from ready to lose a parent yet.

Oh what do I want to go & get married for? Married people can’t get anything done quickly, and neither (partner) can just go & do something on a whim without explaining himself or herself at length, begging permission (indulgence), and then going off feeling guilty for doing it!

<I got away from Sofia for a night.> I enjoy being with her, but we can never just break off & go get something done that we’d like to. At least I just can’t say “so long” or when I do she doesn’t want to let me. Call it love or call it foolishness. How it turns out will tell the tale I suppose.

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