Saturday, June 30, 1888 Our father died a year ago this morning. That was a very hot day while today it is cool and breezy. I miss my father greatly, even more than I thought we would. While he lived, even in his feebleness I had a feeling of some one [?] and standing by me under all circumstances. Now I must stand alone. Lifes problems press upon me and to meet them I must act largely on my own judgment. Harry and I took a walk out to the hill above the tunnel near the high bridge.