Geriatric Thoughts

Now, there’s a surprise for you.  The Supercommittee failed to come to agreement on budget cuts to get control of and start lowering our national debt.  How many Congressmen and women does it take to change a light bulb?  Apparently, all of them.  Even better, how long does the process take?  They have to vote on which light bulb to purchase and decide on the price.  Then, they buy them by the gross spending millions of dollars now to save in the future.  Then, they had to purchase a ladder which cost about $120,000.00 due to OSHA and Homeland Security regulations.

Next, the decision about who should climb the ladder brought about a lot of dissention  ending with a filibuster which is still in progress.  The orators used the usual bombastic, fist pounding method building up the man they back while demeaning the opponent’s method of climbing throwing in hints about a perverted sexual lifestyle which is even now making large headlines and stories filled with innuendo and speculation with just enough truth to make the unproven portions possible are repeatedly played out on television and in the newspapers.

Meanwhile, the orators are reduced to using flashlights to see their written speeches because more light bulbs have burned out since this all started.  Their aides are standing nearby with prompts at the ready should their eyes fail them.  The aides also have purified water and snacks of cheese, caviar, crackers, lox, and all the accompanying needs to meet their physical needs.  For such lofty orators, a sandwich just isn’t good enough.  Surprisingly, a group of five Senators and 10 Congressmen missed a junket to Dubai to discuss Mid-East affairs as it relates to the economy of Sri Lanka and the United States.  It’s obvious these men take their duties to their constituents seriously.

There is now talk of shutting down the government since the light situation is not yet resolved and more lights have burned out.  The huge ladder is standing in the middle of the room blocking the view of those two citizens who come daily to watch the workings of their government.  A group of schoolchildren touring this high office was turned away since there could possibly be repercussions for allowing small children near such a dangerous apparatus.

Finally, a particularly bright aide remembered that the Congress has a maintenance staff to fulfill their every wish and with one call had them scurrying over to replace the burnt out bulbs.  With the problem resolved, all the Senators and Congressmen patted each other on the back to have resolved the matter in such a satisfactory manner.  They can’t even agree on changing a light bulb.  It is beyond me why we thought they could do anything as practical as cutting the budget.  Afterall, we might not like, fund, or reelect them if they cut our favorite program.  This is what we have come to today.

It was a text from my son that took me back to the late 1960′s.  I was a sassy, young Marine First Lieutenant stationed at the San Diego USMC Recruit Depot.  We had a lot of official functions that had mandatory attendance. At one particular event, it happened that Joe Rosenthal was also there.  We all knew who he was, never a Marine, he was accepted as one of us because he took the iconic picture of the United States flag being raised by Marines after they took Iwo Jima during World War II. His photo was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1945 and used to depict Marines for the Marine Memorial in Washington, D.C., commonly known at the Iwo Jima statue.

Joe’s fortune was made in those few minutes with that one picture.  It captured the attention of the nation and was reproduced in newspapers and on the covers of magazines.  Taken on February 23, 1945, the photo gave hope where there was very little.  D Day, or the Normandy invasion occurred on June 6, 1944, but the war continued under enormous disadvantages for our soldiers.  There was no mainstream knowledge of the horrific “Jewish solution” nor did any relief from the horrors of war seem imminent.  We of the United States were losing the cream of our youth in a steady, unrelenting manner.

On December 7, 1941, seventy years ago today, the Japanese surprised the United States by attacking Hawaii wanting to create havoc for our Naval forces in the Pacific.  Instead, the Imperial Navy of Japan created a furor which impelled our reluctant country into the throes of the war not only in the Pacific but also in Europe.  The movie “Tora, Tora, Tora” about the Hawaii attack said it best when General Isokoru Yamamoto was attributed with saying, “I fear we have awakened a sleeping giant.”

So, it was in February, 1945, Joe Rosenthal, an Associated Press reporter/photographer denied entry in the service due to poor eyesight, was embedded with the Marines who battled the Japanese in ferocious fighting to take a small, insignificant island in the Pacific.  When the battle was won, those Marines raised our flag to proclaim their victory and the photo of their dedicated response to victory was snapped.

It was only a few months before the Allied Forces finally defeated the Axis forces in Europe who surrendered in May of 1945 and following the nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Japanese formally surrendered on September 2, 1945.  There was no more war, but the aftereffects and rebuilding in Europe and Japan as well as all Allied countries took decades.

It was a privilege to visit Hiroshima’s Peace Park when I visited Japan while serving on Okinawa.  It was a sobering reminder of the inhumanity created by war.  The bombings brought about the end of the war in the Pacific and, ironically, while taking so many lives probably saved many more.  Nearly all of the World War I veterans have passed now and daily we lose more of the World War II veterans.  When I look at the  signed Iwo Jima photo that Joe gave me, I realize that we must remember, we must tell our children, we must work to ensure that it never happens again.

At times, following a path established for you is better than following the one which you really want.  My daughter had a vital need to visit with her grandmother whom she hadn’t seen since 2005.  I respected her need enough to agree to go with her, but in my heart of hearts knew that I would be worn out from Thanksgiving.  Alicia is not a person to be denied when she makes up her mind to do something.  So it was that I piled in the car with a heavy sigh this past Thursday for a trip to visit with the in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandma.

Let it be said here and now that I luckily married into a wonderful, dynamic family.  My husband was the oldest of nine children including a set of twins; in my family, I was the one and only after the loss of my brother.  It was and still is often overwhelming to be part of such a family after growing up in a small family of four.  Life for large families is  different from that of a smaller family.  Food is always huge and plentiful, clothes are often passed down and around until good only for rags.  My mother-in-law, Pat, is an accomplished seamstress and often made clothes for her brood since my father-in-law, Leo, was in the early years a lower level US Air Force officer.  But then, Pat could do anything that needed doing all while taking care of their children due to Leo flying so much.  She never really appreciated that she had so many talents either from birth or learned by doing it repeatedly.

Just raising nine children all of whom became accomplished, responsible adults speaks of her abilities.  Like any other family they’ve had their problems, but not only survived them, but also thrived after the issue was resolved.  The only thing I haven’t figured out yet is not how she dealt with nine children, but with nine such diverse personalities.  She managed the household by never sitting down from dawn to dusk.  When almost all the kids were teens, Pat was a Colonel’s wife with all the attendant duties which she managed to complete with her usual adroit manner.  Like my mother, Pat could teach me very little since I was  and still am a lefty.  I did everything backwards according to their world and correctly according to mine.

Leo, my father-in-law, was a personable, loving man who did a wonderful job for the Air Force serving in the Korean War and Vietnam as a pilot flying sorties to South America during peacetime.  Ever self-effacing, he never discussed his professional accomplishments;  what I know was learned from the family and/or photos or certificates.  He provided for his family, loved them and took great pride in his children although like so many of his generation had no way of expressing it to them.  He was known by all of us, some 50 people when the family was altogether, for his wicked sense of humor, Brandy Alexanders at Christmas time, and his cigars.

Leo died in 1996 of cancer caused by exposure to agent Orange during Vietnam.  The children and their spouses rallied around Pat holding her up during the stressful time.  In her well-earned retirement, Pat stays busy making blankets which the family then donates to a children’s hospital and other needy causes.  I wish there were words to tell her what she means to me for all the support over nearly 30 years of my marriage.  She called everyone precious rather than by name, but truly she is the one we should call precious.  Her worth has value that monetary means could never match.

There are times, I must admit, that I think the technology of today has a mind of its own and can know what I want.  It throws me back to the time when all the fad was to tell someone who was irritating you, “Talk to the hand.”  I always hated that thinking that it was rude and close to abusive.  Happily, it fell off the radar before too long.  However, now I think of that each time I’m trying to tell my television what to do next.

For years the television sat near to the box that controls my television so when wanting to make a change, be it volume or channel, the remote was just pointed in the direction of the TV and it would do as I asked.  Now, things have changed.  The television is above the fireplace and the box is on a table nearer to the floor.  My pointing skills have to be rewired now.  The only thing that changes is the volume when I point at the television.  The remote has to be pointed at the box if I want to change channels or see the guide.

Many times I have pointed at the television to change channels and pressed the button over and over with no results.  It’s then that I finally remember to point correctly to get the results desired.  But no problem.  My daughter has the new iPhone and while showing her brother, Leo Clifford, how Siri works.  She said, “Siri, call Cliff”  Siri did nothing since her brother was input as Leo.  Alicia had to tell Siri to recognize Cliff as Leo.

It seems the mechanical mind isn’t as flexible as we are yet.  The convenience is nice, but it needs some improvement for us to get to the point where robots can respond with special instructions.  The next mechanical thing I get should at least be able to take the dogs outside for a visit.  My daughter can do that now no problem.

After flying through three-time zones, my daughter, Alicia, arrived here for Thanksgiving thanks to a two stop, fourteen hour flight.  Even she would admit to being a little ragged when she got here.  I admit to almost knocking a man down who happened to be between us when she came through the revolving door.  After a sub and a slow ride home with lots of excited talking on both our parts, she began to slow down some but I kept her awake until East Coast bedtime to try to help her get over the jet lag.

Cliff, his family and in-laws literally came up the mountains, around and through them.  He drove through a rain storm on two lane roads in pitch dark “up hill all the way” to finally arrive at the exact time he predicted.  My daughter-in-law climbed out with that deer-in-the-headlights look of all Moms who have kept an eighteen month old and a five-year old entertained for all those hours.  Of all my family, she really deserves a medal since there was nary a complaint just lots of smiles and hugs.  And so it all began.

Can we just stop here and talk about my dogs?  They are acclimated to a quiet home with little movement occasionally going out or wandering to another room.  They sleep, eat, and thoroughly enjoy their life.  Having the contractor’s crew in the house totally upset them and with little rest here comes Alicia who is constantly in motion followed by Cliff and his crew.  Honestly, I didn’t know that two dogs could be so terrorized by two little kids who are really good children.  The grands loved that they could run a circle around the inside of my house.  Before too many laps were finished, the dogs decided that they were being chased.

By day two, the dogs were terrorized and really there wasn’t any reason for it.  Hannah started hiding behind furniture or in her kennel and Hancock who can never resist being nosy alternated between hiding in the kennel or running away from kids who weren’t chasing him.  Last night, he huddled pitifully next to my feet begging for mercy so I picked him up and held him in my lap.  But the best part was when Hancock fell into lust with baby girl’s new teddy bear.

It is a handsome bear, but it was embarrassing how much Hancock wanted to snuggle with that bear.  He loves his toys and always keeps one close by;  when stressed, he picks one up and holds on to it in a near death grip.  So, a couple of them have new teeth marks right now.  When things settle down, that dog is getting his own teddy bear.  After all, love cannot be denied.

It was one of the best Thanksgivings ever and I’ve been lucky enough to have some good ones.  I’m not sure if it was the fact that I had folks near my age to talk to as well as the adult kids or if it was just the good-natured fun that reigned.  There’s nothing like noshing with three tired, giggly females butt to butt in a kitchen.  It’s been too long since I’ve done that.  And there’s nothing like your grandchildren in your house to bring the joy and life that makes a house a home.  Y’all come back now, ya heah.

Believe it or not, ready or not, the holiday seasons is upon us.  Finally, my remodeling venture is finished and furniture is once again in all the rooms where it belongs.  There are only a few paintings left to hang and we can call this experiment finished.  It isn’t a moment too soon either.  All the beds are freshly made and clean towels are hung and most of the housecleaning is done.  Only the kitchen is left and there’s too much to do in there to even think about mopping the floor.

You see before too long this house will be full and the fun will begin.  Alicia arrives today with Cliff, his family and in-laws arriving in about 48 hours.  Including myself, there will eight of us here for Thanksgiving.  I haven’t had that many people at my house since Alicia got married and that was almost seven years ago.  I am out of practice, but I am a planner extraordinare.  What I am not is good at following the plan that is laid out, but I am good about catching up on all the stuff that didn’t get done.  It all evens out and it all gets done.

The menu looks good, at least on paper, it does.  Lots of veggies and, of course, the star of the show, the turkey will cover the table.  Desserts will be plentiful and it’s easy to predict a lot of full tummies.  Football and televised parades will be the order of the day along with the meal.  A slow, relaxing day is the goal; reality may turn out to be a little different.  To me, Thanksgiving isn’t all about the food, but rather the camraderie with family and friends.

For you all, I wish a warm, family centered day that can be feasted on for days leaving lingering memories that will last a long time.  Take the opportunity to reconnect with your family and take the pictures to dwell on for years to come.  Enjoy it all and live to tell the next generation about it years from now.  Remember the next day is Black Friday and the shopping frenzy for Christmas will begin.  Ho, ho, ho.

The suffragettes of the late 19th century and early 20th century were looking only for the right to vote.  The women of the 1960s and 1970s were only looking for the right to be employed and accepted in positions that were all held by men.  What none of us thought about was the consequences of equality, but if we had, it probably wouldn’t have deterred us.

Fifty years later, the consequences are apparent in many ways.  Women are accepted in all levels of management.  Numerous women own and run their own companies.  It is easier for our daughters to get the job they want due to the hard fight endured by their mothers, grandmothers, and farther on back.  So it is today that we are for the most part equal in marriage, the workplace and sometimes even income.

Equality for women demands the consequences for a life lived with the advent of more  diseases such as heart problems and more injuries and death from war.  Recently, ABC aired a 20/20 program that focused on Gabrielle Giffords and her husband, Mark.  What she is going through is unimaginable and her future can’t be planned as once she must have done.  It was a grim reminder of how far women have come.  Watching Diane Sawyer’s interview, it wasn’t difficult to flash back to a similar interview with James and Sarah Brady.  James Brady, shot during the assassination attempt on President Regan in 1981, suffered brain injury.

It isn’t uncommon to hear of a woman being killed or injured while serving in the military.  The loss of women in combat saddens just as that of a serviceman does; however, it seems more poignant.  This is a portion of the price paid for equality.  Our children won’t know the difference since the world they grow up in will be more equal.  Hopefully, they won’t forget that once long ago that their forbearer struggled to pave the way for them.  Progress is a system of pluses and minuses;  progress with care.

In this day and time, we often blur lines that once were pure black and white allowing for others mistakes.  What was once alcoholism, pure and simple, resolved by will and determination to live a better life is now categorized, or confused, by its designation as a disease where there really isn’t a cure unless you attended a pricey in-house program which may or not work depending on the individual.  It’s become complicated and harder to deal with, thus, harder to resolve.

Divorce at one time was considered inappropriate and wasn’t done until no-fault divorces made it easy to say sayonara to the one who was the love of your life.  With little or no thought to the children or the foundation built on a life together, adults abandon each other and their families when times become hard.  Life is messy and not always convenient or perfect, but thankfully there is still something negative about the individual when they walk away from their loved ones.   Children rarely are grateful for a divorce, but their say in what will happen goes unheard.

Although both of these events generally revolve around families, there are other, bigger issues where the lines once drawn are smudged by attitude.  Such thoughts are provoked by the scandal at Penn State.  I had heard only snatches of the news and didn’t get the complete story.  In discussion with someone else about the situation, he informed me that the first knowledge of what Jerry Sandusky, a former Penn State assistant football coach, was doing happened nine years previously.  For the nine-year delay in reporting the incident to the police there is no excuse.  Nine more years of Sandusky continuing to abuse young children most, if not all, of whom were “benefitting” from The Second Mile, a foundation established to help young boys.  Sandusky created the foundation and now we know it was for his benefit not that of the kids.

There are too many crimes to recount here, but for me the worst of the worst is that “good” responsible adults i.e., the football coach, staff and university officials gave Sandusky the benefit of the doubt and carelessly ignored all warnings.  It’s obvious that they didn’t want to do anything that might be negative for themselves or for the university.  They can and will pay the repercussions of denial for the remainder of their lives.  A program that had a sterling reputation is now irreparably damaged.  Joe Paterno, nicknamed “Joepa” by adoring students, revered by most people will forever bear the brunt of bad decisions made in favor of that and those he loved.  By doing so, he created far greater damage.  It’s a very sad ending for what appeared to be a stellar job, but protecting self and other adults over vulnerable children will never be right.  For that, we can be thankful.

My children were brought up to believe that anything is possible and that their attitude toward whatever happened would shape their lives.  They were encouraged to maintain a positive attitude delineating their options and with sufficient information making the decision that is right for them in that particular situation.  I only rarely look back and, yes,  sometimes rue the choices made, but I know that it was the best one possible at that time.

A life lived with all due deliberation and careful thought isn’t necessarily filled with excitement, but it is satisfying and fulfilling.  These are the things that my parents,  particularly my mother, passed on to me and now to their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  There was a time in my life where I was free from all obligations to explore the world and myself and to grow.  When the time came for children and all the responsibilities they bring, it was time to end the exploration and concentrate on those that I had brought into the world.

Looking back, it’s easy to remember how endless those days seemed.  It had never been my ambition to be a parent, but once the decision was made to have children, I gave the best that I had to them.  The things that my parents taught me added to those that I had learned was poured into my children.  That doesn’t mean that I was a perfect parent then or now.  It was just that my attitude was that they hadn’t asked to come into this world and it was my responsibility to provide for them emotionally and mentally, to prepare them for the world that awaited.

I have never thought of myself as lucky believing that luck is earned with a lot of hard work.  However, when it comes to my children, I’m very lucky.  The work that went into forming who they are was worth it.  The traits that their father and I passed on evolved them into adults that I proudly claim as mine.  Their successes are the product of years of work, attentiveness, and care.  Parenting is the most difficult thing one does requiring dedication, steadfastness, and consistency.  There are no rewards for parenting while you are completing it; it is a thankless task.  Children will defy and torment their parents; with uncanny accuracy, they know all your buttons and push them often.  The parent must remember what the goal is and rise above the temptation to kill them.  After all, attitude is everything.

November 10th is the Marine Corps birthday and this year Marines will celebrate their 236th birthday.  Around the world, wherever there is an active duty or former Marine, this birthday will be noted and celebrated.  My most memorable one was in the early 1970′s while stationed in Okinawa.  There weren’t many of us, but on that day, we gathered together to mark the occasion.  There weren’t many Women Marines stationed there and even fewer Women Marine Officers.  As a First Lieutenant, I was selected with three other Marines to escort the cake into the room on a cart .  I was honored to be selected and appreciative of the opportunity.

Unbeknownst to us, we were near the end of the disastrous Vietnam War where tragedy and pain was only a small distance away.  Camp Hague was the site chosen for Marines being deployed from Vietnam back to the US, back home.  They would come to the club and sit for hours nursing a drink, never saying a word and just stare and all too often they stared without seeing.  Those of us stationed at various Okinawa bases met there to party and let loose.  It was hard for me to ignore the pain that seemed to radiate from these men with wounds from which there flowed no blood. It was their spirit and souls which had suffered and would take years to heal. That war left us all battered but not bowed. We were still Marines and for that we could be proud.

Today, we honor all veterans who have fought particularly those who died and they are legion. Those young men and women from all wars who struggled to do their best to protect the way of life we enjoy now ultimately giving all for us. I remember one Marine, Ken Kozai, who flew helicopters. We were the best of friends and his flair for life was contagious to all who met him. He flew helicopters and was ordered back to Vietnam since they needed his skills.  It wasn’t many weeks before the news was heard that he had died in a crash caused by friendly fire. I still remember him and his outrageous, huge Cadillac that he adored. He and his zest for life were gone. It left a hole in all of us who knew him. His name is on the wall in Washington. They still volunteer, they still fight, they still serve, they still die. God bless them all.