I talked to my mom on the phone a little bit last night. Besides being the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, it was also the anniversary of my parents’ wedding day. It was Mom’s first anniversary since Dad’s death in June. We talked a little bit and she held up quite well until the end of our conversation when I said “I love you Mom.†Then, she started to cry, and I started to cry, and we both released some good tears and pent-up sadness.
Not that mine is really pent up. I still cry on a regular basis when I think about my father and the difficult last few weeks of his life. Or I cry thinking about wonderful memories that we shared together. Heck, my sweetie and I were driving around a while ago and, when I heard one old-timey song that Dad used to sing to me, I promptly burst into tears in the middle of our conversation. I’m not the repressor of emotions I used to be.
As I watched the news coverage of the Pearl Harbor ceremonies, I also thought about how Dad’s death was yet one more loss of a WWII veteran. Here in Hawaii, the day’s events are pretty significant and get a lot of respect and coverage. But many of the men who attended the ceremonies who were military survivors of the attack on December 7, 1941 stated this may be their last visit to the site. They mentioned how old they are getting, and how the trip gets more difficult every year. Organizers remarked how the make-up of attendance has changed. How the men used to come by themselves, but now they come accompanied by many family members. But many of them still do not talk much about the attack, or their subsequent service in the war. I’ve written before about the loss of these past soldiers. My father rarely talked about his service, but it was something he was immensely proud of. After he was diagnosed last August, I went to a book store, bought a large map of the world, grabbed some pens, drove to Mom and Dad’s house, and told my father “Right. Now show me everywhere you went when you were in the Navy in World War II.†And, thank my stars, he did. Almost two entire trips around the world, and stops on almost every continent. He didn’t elaborate too much on what went on in between all the ports of call. But at least I now have a little piece of my father’s history in a notebook and an ink-stained map. I think it meant something to him that I know it. It certainly means a lot to me.
came across your site while blog-hopping and had to comment…we lost our dad the first week of july and this weekend would be his birthday, so my sympathy goes out to you and your family.
you are right about the soldiers who bottle their experiences–my grandfather didn’t begin to speak of his until right before his death, and even then all we got was he’d been a few places….
Your dad is still around, in you and, to a lesser extent, in those of us with whom your share his story and yours.
The map is such a great idea. Mikster is right, the people we lose are always around in some way.
Having radar navigated in and out of that port 5 times, it holds a lot of meaning to me. A naval vessel always gives tribute to the Arizona everytime they pass. My dad died in 1992, he was a young man right out of high school and training for the invasion of Japan, which we didn’t have to do…he always said if we fought a war in Utah, he was ready, lol. You can’t be in the Navy, go to Pearl Harbor and not be deeply affected by the memories. They should be honored forever, all of them. I am glad you got the map.