Sunday, Mar 22, 1885 Only 4 above zero this morning. We sat with my father a good part of the day. Girard and his wife and Jimmy were at dinner with Mary, Sara and me. My father would have come down to dinner with us but it was so cold that we did not think it wise to run the risk of his taking cold. Mr & Mrs Crane sent him flowers on Saturday. Nannie who is in N.Y. sent him flowers by us and John McEntee sent him flowers also and he had a nice letter from Tom McEntee. I was not at home last year at the anniversary of his birthday but Gussie was here and Mr & Mrs Ed Tomkins and Mr & Mrs John R. Stebbins. My father seems to improve a little all the time but nevertheless he looks very old and is very feeble; still he suffers no pain, sleeps well, and has a good appetite. After he retired in the evening Sara and I went and called upon Mr & Mrs Cantine and after we came back Sam, Mary and I sat before the fire and talked of Joe Tomkins letter to Mary, then of dear Gussie with us less than a year ago and of Gertrude and Maurice and my mother and we mingled our tears over their memory. The house was pervaded with their presence, their silent presence, blessing us in the tenderest love for them in every thought and memory. Every time I enter my room, no matter what I may be thinking of, my dear Gertrude comes vividly before me and my heart goes out to her in an intense longing which words cannot express.