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July 14 1944. Dear Hedda, Time passes and no mail from you. I'm sort of depressed these days and your mail [[strikethough]] okc [[/strikethrough]] could do so much for me but nothing and nothing every day. I hope by God that you are fine, that you are in good health. Take care of you dear, I have to find you fine and pretty and nice and smiling. I need you dear and I'm now in love with you so much dear. July 15 I had yesterday to go around and your letter spent the day in my shirt pocket- Today is warm and lousy. Today is my father's birthday. My father is the [[strikethrough]] weake [[/strikethrough]] weak part of my family. He has not courage or will and he's been always absent minded. I like him and I hope to see him sometime.