I was born the fourth of six children in a seven year span. One boy and five girls. Yes, my parents were Catholic but I am pretty sure religion (at least consciously) played a pretty minor part in the whole big family thing? I guess I should ask the two who know, right? No. Not their Priest and the Pope. I am so un-Catholic that I don't even know if I should capitalize the word "Priest?" I meant ask my Mom and Dad. That will be a good one for Thanksgiving dinner.
My Dad was a very handsome, brilliant Navy pilot and my Mom a beautiful, smart, young lovely woman.
They met on a blind date arranged by their fathers. They both say they knew after the first date that they would be married. I have always found that to be such a sweet idea. Just a few hours and you knew? Total strangers at 6:00 and by 10:00 you are trying out the sound of "forever" on your tongue? For clarity, I don't know how long their first date was. It was almost 50 years ago so I can use the glossy innocence of the the early 60's (really?) to imagine they both used the word "forever" in their heads when they lay down to sleep after this amazing date, having just barely shared a brief kiss under the bright light of my paternal Grandparent's porch. Disclaimer....I don't even know what happened on the date? Again...it is on the list of things to discover. In my discovery, I would look for just general details of dinner or movie or walk or drive or whatever. NOT specifics.
So, my Dad left Newton a few days after the date to go back to the Naval base. They wrote one another letters as he is stationed in Brownsville. He suggested that she move out there with him in one of his letters. She wrote back to say that although she loved him and would love to move to Texas, she could not do so without an engagement ring. She got a check in the next letter. A check to buy an engagement ring. Brave move on his part, she could have cashed it and never written again. She could have torn it up and returned it with a tear stained letter of how inconsiderate this was? She could have used it to buy a car and runaway with some suitor who was waiting in the wings. She didn't. She bought a ring. A really beautiful ring. Some would say that wasn't very romantic? I would argue that it was a BIG check and she was then allowed to get EXACTLY what she wanted...and she did. So, romantic...not necessarily? Kinda' Clint Eastwood badass....yes.
They married. Her waist was so tiny that the wedding day pictures look like they have been photo shopped. (Her waist is still significantly smaller than mine and will always be. Did I mention she had six children?) They were so happy. So attractive. Richard Gere ain't got nothin' on my 24 year old Father on his wedding day. She was Jackie O lovely. The first baby came nine months after the Yosemite honeymoon. The second baby came 11 months after the first. The third came 14 months later. And so on. Keep in mind, my Dad was an active Navy pilot who was not home very often. Yes, often enough...obviously.
May I just say that my Mom put her size 6 jeans back on before she left the hospital each time she gave birth to one of us? Yes, she did smoke cigarettes...but lots of women did in the 60's. Is smoking during pregnancy meant that I could be a size 6 EVER in my life....I might have considered it. I am not saying I would have DONE it...just considered it. I did smoke just not while there was a human inside of me. And, I think I was a size 6 for about 5 minutes. Oh, I loved those five minutes.
So, six kids. Living on Naval bases. Vietnam. Friends and neighbors who did what they were supposed to do. Helped each other. Hung out together. Took one anther's children while Mom was at the hospital alone having a baby. Cooked dinners and shared food for months at a time while Dads were away. Smoked cigarettes and drank whatever because they were basically single Moms in a tumultuous time and their husbands were on the other side of the world fighting a war we couldn't win.
I don't even know all of my neighbors first names? That time was so different. It does take a village. in 1894, 1937, 2012 and every year in between. We used to do it together. We used to be there for one another. We used to watch out for the kids in the neighborhood. Many days, it just feels like we drive by, close the shades, shut the door, send an email (or not), ignore the phone...and just get through...on our own...because that is what we are supposed to do.
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