18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Saturday, November 1, 1913:
November now is here again
Upon her scenes we’ll linger
Thanksgiving comes e’er she has gone
We count the days upon our fingers.
Not much sleep came to my eyes this morning. Ma got me up at half past four to dry the dishes left from the party. I tell you it was quite a mess, but it was accomplished at last.
Didn’t do much of anything as I was too much done up and by good luck it happened that there wasn’t much to do. Did feel lonesome after all the festivity here last night.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
If I could get in a time machine, I’d go back and reprimand Grandma’s mother:
I’d angrily scream, “What kind of mother are you? How dare you wake your daughter up at 4:30? The Halloween party made her the happiest she’s been in weeks—let her sleep and bask in the memories for a few hours.
But. . . maybe I’m being too hard on Grandma’s mother.
I told my daughter what I was going to write. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Mothers are just like that. You’d have been mad if I’d left the house a mess after a party. You probably won’t have woken up at 4:30, so you won’t have known it was a mess until later, but you’d have made me clean it up.”