Mom & Me Four Archive

...being just this side of normal that, this time, I'm not nearly as excited as I usually am when I pick them up. Yes, this month's CBC results are up. Even the two stats that remain low for Prescott, her RBC and her MCHC, have been slowly responding to her increased iron dosage. Her RBC is practically normal for Prescott. These laggers, of course, and occasional others are the stats that indicate that she remains Anemic Due to Chronic Disease. Unless those handy dandy Star Trek medical devices are invented within the next few years, she will remain so for the rest of her life. But, I'm happy, and she's comfortable and pleased with her life.
    Strange morning, today. Mom awoke a little before 0600 from a hard, fast rainstorm that also roused me. I met her in the bathroom, we changed out her underwear (she hadn't yet begun to leak onto the sheets) and I said, "I guess you'll be going back to bed."
    "No, I think I'll stay up."
    Again, didn't bother me. Especially when I headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast and she said, "I think I'd just like a cup of coffee. I'll be going back to bed soon." No, she isn't immune to caffeine. She drinks decaf almost exclusively.
    She was up until almost 0830. One of the cats had knocked over a short stack of videos sitting on the TV stand. As I picked them up so Mom could settle into her rocker without dislocating this or that joint, she noticed the last one I retrieved, Why We Fight. "What's this about?" she asked.
    We watched it a couple nights ago, so I reminded her of our viewing, the subject of the movie and that we'd both enjoyed it. Neither of us found it quite as startling or unsettling as The Fog of War. It's primarily a reiteration and expansion of commonly known history, but since this history is commonly ignored, most commonly by those who decide on, declare and mount war, it's won a permanent place in our DVD archive.
    When we watched it, I didn't think to ask Mom about her own attitudes toward WWII, seeing as how she joined the Navy at that time and was a gunnery instructor to U.S. soldiers. This morning I decided to ask her about her memories of and attitudes toward "her" war and her involvement in the Navy during that war. Should have podcast this (although, as usual, the podcast would have required a lot of editing for thought pauses), but, I didn't, so, here's what I learned:

    She says that she joined the Navy not because of any particular feelings of patriotism or loyalty to the U.S., but because "everyone was joining." Her primary goal wasn't to shore up the Allies' war effort. She was seeking adventure. She said she had no concern about the Allies' defeating opposing forces. She was sure this would happen.
    She had hoped that the Navy would send her overseas. This didn't happen. But, as she said this morning, when her stint was up (she was discharged when she and my father decided to marry; she met him in the Navy; he was one of her students) she wasn't disappointed because it ushered her into marrying and having children, something she also wanted to do, "...and that was adventure enough!"
    She has fond memories of her term in the Navy: High spiritied, satisfying commaraderie among her peers; the satisfaction that comes from being a part of an important cause, despite the fact that she was sure of the outcome; the always present possibility that the overseas part of her ideal adventure might materialize; the acquiring of new, not-considered-feminine skills and authority.
    She is no longer aware of much of the detail of WWII. She remembers rationing but remembers its effects only on her pre-military life. Her recall tells her that "rationing didn't affect us in the military," even though I know it did. My guess is that it didn't seem like it affected the military because most of the rationing going on was done in order to make sure the military was well provided. She does not recall the general patriotism of the country. When I asked her if she was patriotic she said, "Not particularly."
    I asked her if she thought the war was "justified".
    She thought for a moment. "I don't know that I'd use the word 'justified'," she said. "'Necessary' is better."
    "Do you think all large scale wars are necessary?" I asked.
    "Well," she said, picking her words carefully, "We can't seem to stop people who want to fight from fighting so..." her voice dwindled.
    "Do you remember ever being afraid that the war would come home to roost on American soil?" I asked.
    "It did!" she said.
    "I mean, you know, foreign armies invading the U.S., the U.S. being bombed..."
    "Goodness no! We were perfectly safe!"
    "Really!" I exclaimed. "Are you aware that many people thought just the opposite?"
    "Oh, yes," she said. "Some people will always make mountains out of molehills."
    "Why, then, if you figured that being in the U.S. was 'perfectly safe', did you long to go overseas, where it obviously wasn't safe?"
    "For the excitement," she said.
    Interesting response.
    She remembers her social life during that time as being at its high point. Lots of passes with groups of "the girls" for nights out on the town; lots of attention from both civilian and military men. Lots of movies, lots of dances, lots of dates, lots of excitement about both being in uniform and being out of uniform.
    Finally, I asked her, if she hadn't gotten married, would she have stayed in the military? I've asked her this before but wondered if her answer would change.
    No hesitation here. "Yes."
    "What about your teaching career?" I asked.
    "I was teaching."
    "Are you sorry, then, that you got married and had kids?"
    "Not at all."
    "Why not?"
    "Well, it's something I always wanted to do and I met your Dad."
    "So, you were pretty picky about who you wanted to marry and have kids with."
    That inscrutable gleam lit her eyes. "Oh, yes. I wasn't about to marry just anybody!"
    "Did you ever think you might not get married?"
    "Yes, that's why I went into the Navy."
    "You were looking for a husband?"
    She looked at me as though I was a pre-feminist throwback. "No," she said. "I never looked for a husband. They looked for me."
    Whoops! Excuse me! "So, it was primarily adventure you were looking for."
    "Yes," she said dreamily.
    "Are you now satisfied with your choice?"
    "I got to do both, so, yes, I'm satisfied."
    "No regrets?"
    "None."
    That's my mom. No sorrows, no regrets. That must be where I got it from.

    I'm going to let her sleep in until I start to get nervous. Seeing as how it's almost 1330, my nervousness will probably prod me to awaken her about 1400. I have a feeling it's going to be a laid back day. Good. I've still got a screen door to disengage and deliver; although I've already called the business and told them I may not get that in until tomorrow. No problem. This isn't one of those jobs they're counting on to keep them in the black.
    Later.