My name is Eric and I’m a postman. I have a wife,Julia, and 2 kids,Roger and John. My house is close to Southampton Dock. I started this journal because I have alzheimer and I think I should take notes about my life from now on. I’m going to write stuff daily. This journal will become an identity of mine and be a guide for me and the person who will find me somewhere in near future.(10.31.1932)
It is 8 o’ clock in the morning and it is calm and cloudy. It is calm because it is a december morning, I haven’t heard any bird chirping yet. Because of those heavy clouds, unlike any other morning I’ve seen yet, It is a gloomy morning. We were going to enter new year a couple of days later so I have to arrive to Southampton the day before new year to celebrate it with my wife and kids. But there are some problems ahead of me: I don’t have enough money and I have other mails to deliver across the country. I’m heading over to the centre of the village I’m in right now to find a guy who will carry me to Nottingham. The letter I’m delivering there is about a student who is accepted to Nottingham University. I’m actually impressed because you can’t really find someone who is accepted to a such university.
After a while, I found a carriage which is the same direction like me. Now I’m on the road to Nottingham.(12.08.1932)
Right now, I’m in Nottingham near street that Royal Mail is on. I’m going to take my deliveries and I guess I will hit the road again.(The noon of 12.10.1932)
I didn’t want to write pretty much anything, so my notes are pretty short today. I got 16 other letters to deliver and I can remember 2 of them right now. One of them is about a boy writing to his father to take him home, and the other one is about another boy who is writing to his mom “Let me go!”. Sounds familiar.(The evening of 12.10.1932)
It is my day off today and I was waiting for this day for like an eternity. I guess I will spend some time kicking around in Wollaton Park, near the library, and go to my motel a few streets away and get ready for my trip to London.(12.11.1932)
Oh no, I forgot the way to the train station!(12.12.1932)
I went to a doctor today to see if my health is okay or not, and the results are not good. He gave me some medicine and told me that I should not work that much. But I cannot obey him about not working that much. Anyways, now I’m on my way to London on a train. The machinist told me that we will arrive to London in around 5 days.(12.13.1932)
It’s December 18th, 1932 today and I’ve finally arrived to London. It is just like the day I have come here last time: cold, dark and polluted. I made my way to Royal Mail. I gave the mails I had collected from some mailboxes in Nottingham(because I forgot to take those letters to the post office) and took letters to deliver. I delivered some of those and it is now 8 o’clock. Now I’m in a motel and I guess I will be staying here for some days.(12.18.1932)
These writing sessions are taking a considerable amount of my time so I’m going to give a break.(12.21.1932)
I’m now in a post office and again, doing my tiring job. But in addition, I’m a receiver today. I’ve learnt that my wife has sent a telegram saying;”Eric, Roger is sick right now and I’ve learnt that he is going to die in several days! Come home as soon as possible!”. I suddenly passed out after reading those lines and they said that I stayed like that for like 15 minutes. After I woke up, I immediately started running to the train station. Now I’m turning to Newthorpe St. and I’m going to hop on the first train that going to Southampton.(12.23.1932)
The train I was on got out of the rails and crashed on a field near Whitchurch and fortunately emergency came quick and they took us to Hampshire Hospital because most of us got injured.
I now asked to a doctor about the train crash and she said 23 people died at the accident. I’m still here because they are not letting me go away. I will a way out of here.(12.25.1932)
I found a way out at the hospital amd I’m writing these lines whıle runnina. I’m going to find another train before it is too late.Hang on son, daddy is coming for you!(12.25.1932)
This is Julia, Eric’s wife. I recently learnt that he had alzheimer and was writing on this journal for a while. And I want to conclude the journal for him.
Unlike our neighbors and relatives, we didn’t have the spirit to celebrate the new year because of our situation. Roger have passed out on my knees a couple of minutes before he arrived home. When Eric arrived, Roger was hardly breathing and I was trying to warm him up. Eric tried to wake him up but he didn’t wake up. It was seconds before the new year. And, just then, his breath stopped. He died on my knees. We didn’t enter the new year, because everything suddenly stopped.
We buried him at Millbrook Cemetery near my husband, without any facial expressions. I felt like I buried myself instead of Roger. Everything is going gloomier and darker since then. I’m going to burn this journal because I cannot stand looking at it.(01.26.1933)
As she said, she burnt the journal and buried it’s ashes between her husband’s and son’s tombs’, putting her tombstone on the ashes of the journal.