9 April, 1912
In two days, my mother and I leave for Southampton to board our ship to America. I have asked my good friends at the seamstress's about this ship, the "RMS Titanic" it's called, and they claim that it is the largest ship ever built, and if that is not enough it is utterly unsinkable. They are quite envious of me, but I am rather nervous. Is it really possible for a man-made thing to be more powerful than Nature herself? It just doesn't seem right to me.
Mother was bedridden until almost noon, and when she finally presented herself, she was flighty and anxious. I know why; it is the second anniversary of my poor Father's death. Mother loved him dearly and I know that his death was as harsh on her as it was on me. She is not a strong person by nature, but she tries her best, for me, and I appreciate it.
She promised that she would hire a maid to accompany us on our journey. Other than that, today has been rather uneventful. I look forward to tomorrow.