I got around as a kid. Shortly after I was born, I was on a "road trip" with my mom and sisters, to Steubenville, Ohio while my dad went to sea. His boat would pull in close to shore, and my dad (a Torpedoman's Mate) would go and disarm mines on a beach the Marines would hit the following day. We went to stay with my mom's family, and went to Chicago to visit my dad's mom and aunt. I remember none of this, although I've found some pictures of the time.
When Dad's boat got back, it was stationed at Pearl Harbor, and we traveled from Ohio to California, to board a sea plane for the flight to Honolulu. I remember images from those times (I was 3 when we first arrived), and a couple of things are pretty complete, memory-wise. Like I can remember riding around on my dad's Cushman scooter, and getting "dish packs" (a cardboard barrel that they would pack dishes in for moving), and rolling down the long, sloping front lawn, inside the barrel. Every time someone moved into the neighborhood, the kids would scramble to get the dish pack(s), and we'd spend a whole day out running up the lawn, and rolling back down. I liked Hawaii, but Dad got a little claustrophobic on an island, so he got orders to a boat out of San Diego.
I was 4 when we got to San Diego, I remember we lived in a house on the edge of a canyon, and a big, friendly boxer (dog) I would wrestle with, but not much else. We were only there for 18 months, just long enough for me to get registered in Kindergarten, and actually start school. After two or three months, I was pulled out, and we moved to Hunter's Point Naval Shipyard, while my dad's boat underwent an overhaul. We were there a month, and Dad got orders to the Naval Reserve Training Center, in Vallejo, so we moved into a Quonset hut until Dad found us a house in town. I went to school on Mare Island for 6 weeks, and moved to John Davidson Elementary. Dad had a 1 year lease on the house on Ladera Drive, and by the time the lease expired, we moved again, and I started at another new school, Pennycook Elementary.
We spent 8 years in that house. Longer than anyplace, but Dad had retired from the Navy, and took a job at the California Medical Facility (CMF), in Vacaville, some 30 minutes drive each way... Dad did well, and made Correctional Sargent, a promotion that my mom had promised to move, yet again, to Vacaville, so he wouldn't have to commute an hour every day. I "graduated" from Pennycook Elementary, and was going to Springstown Junior High... right at the end of my 8th grade year, when I was supposed to be an "almighty Ninth Grader," I ended up as a freshman at Vacaville High School. As much as I bitched and moaned about moving again, and despite the fact that the town had 14,000 people, one movie theater, and the Nut Tree, in retrospect, I needed to move here... If I hadn't, I'd have never met Mary, and would probably be dead right now.
One of the guys I used to hang out with, in Vallejo, ended up as an inmate at CMF, and was re-assigned to Chino by my dad. When Dad got home that night, he asked, "Do you know a guy named Such And Such?" I said I did, and he told me he was a prisoner, in for an armed robbery, and attempted murder of his accomplice. I've always wondered, if I'd have stayed in Vallejo, would I have been that accomplice? Dad said he had no choice but to send him to Chino, since there was a loose connection between inmate and officer through me. I shudder every time I think about it.
We lived in an upstairs, 3br, 2ba, apartment when we first moved to Vacaville. We had a balcony that overlooked the pool, and a downstairs neighbor who was an Air Force pilot, and was hardly ever around. It was Summer, and the only kid in the complex that was "around" my age was a girl who was going into the 7th grade. She had an abundance of baby fat, and just acted weird (at least to a guy who was used to Vallejo). If I went for a swim, she'd come to the pool and hang out, and we talked some, but there was nothing going from my perspective.
We were in the apartment from July 1965 until February 1966, moving into a newly constructed house just in time for Mom's 40th birthday. It was cool, I didn't have to change schools, Pat (my middle sister) had gotten married, so Mom made a "guest" room, and a "study" out of the extra rooms in the house, and I was allowed to sound-proof my room, so I could play my stereo without bothering anyone. In the "study," Dad constructed a big table out of a door blank. It turned out really great, and had a lot of room to put stuff on. I did most of my homework (when I actually DID my homework) at that desk. I lived in that house for 6 years, my folks spent 8 in that house, and bought a "cluster home" in '73.
Sometimes I think I've spent my entire life moving. Navy transfers aside, I've moved a lot. Especially after getting married. We were always trying to find a "nice" place for a low rent, and lived in several different places in San Diego over the years. We end up back in Vacaville, but moved a number of times while we've been here. Currently, we've been in this house for 8 years, equaling the longest period of time I've ever lived in one house. I'm not sure when we moved out of the house on Ladera Dr. I know it was during school, but we moved out in July of 1965, so it was sometime in 1957. I want to say it was in March, or April of '57, so that would be 8 years, 4 months in Vallejo, and we're on 8 years, 3 months on the 23rd of February. That means, that in addition to our celebrating our 43rd Wedding Anniversary, we will also be celebrating the longest period of time I've spent in one house, EVER. That may not be exciting to many people, but it's really a milestone in my life.
Monday, February 20, 2017
Tuesday, February 7, 2017
"Because I said so."
I think that was one of my dad's favorite sayings. I know it was the one I hated the most. It got to the point where I swore an oath to myself, never to use that phrase with my children. That lasted an entire two years after Tyffany was born.
I remember it like it was fairly recent, I don't think I can ever forget it, as it stands as the day I realized that children can really be annoying, particularly when they get to the, "Why?" stage. After answering a number of "Why?" questions, that phrase popped out. The weirdest thing was, it was my dad's voice, coming out of my mouth... After a few moments of stunned silence, I started to laugh...
I am one who believes that everyone can be an example, as even a bad example is still an example. There was much that I wanted to change when I started my own family. For one, my family was never really affectionate. Mom and Dad would simply say, "Good night." No "Love you's," or "Sweet dreams," just Good night. I don't ever remember being "tucked in," or getting read bedtime stories, just a "Good night," after which I was expected to go to sleep. I'm not calling my parents "bad examples," but their parenting could have been better, so the answer to "What would Dad do?" was often the opposite of what I would do.
For one thing, my family never hugged each other. Growing up in a non-demonstrative home, you don't realize how important it is to be hugged. After Tyffany was born, it was "hugs and kisses" at bedtime, when I came home from work, as well as any number of other occasions. I told my kids, every day, that I loved them, and was proud of them. My dad waited until I was 50 before he told me he was proud of me. I spent my entire life trying to make my dad proud of me, and would have killed to hear those words. When he finally got around to it, it didn't mean as much to me as it would have when I was young. By the time he said it, I had retired from the Navy, gone to college and got my Bachelor's, and was teaching. Hell, I was pretty proud of myself, and really didn't need validation from anyone.
I never did get any respect from my sisters, who felt it their business to tell me how to raise my family, despite the fact that one sister refused to see that one of her kids had learning disabilities and needed help, and the other was a meth-head. I've been vindicated, however, as my kids are all serving in positions that help people, and animals. I am extremely proud of my children, and the people they've become, even if one hasn't talked to me in four years, and one has rejected my beliefs. Other than not being able to see my two granddaughters, there are no regrets. We taught them to stand up for themselves, and they have. It doesn't mean I've stopped loving them, or praying for them. It also doesn't mean that I plan to make any changes to accommodate them. Mary and I get along just fine, since I'm married to her, and have completed my obligations to my kids, I am pretty happy with my life. Happy, not complacent...
I know there are things in my life that need work... I also know that, at the present time, I lack the knowledge to make these changes, but I trust that that knowledge will be made available to me in the future. We either keep growing, or we start dying, and at 65, I'm not quite ready to go. I'm not ready to claim omniscience quite yet, either.
In the Book of Mormon, the prophet Nephi tells us that, "... man is that he might have joy." A latter-day prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley tells us that there is great joy in obeying the commandments of God, doing His will, and honoring the covenants we make with him. That we should, "Be happy. Don't get discouraged, [because] [t]hings will work out."
I remember it like it was fairly recent, I don't think I can ever forget it, as it stands as the day I realized that children can really be annoying, particularly when they get to the, "Why?" stage. After answering a number of "Why?" questions, that phrase popped out. The weirdest thing was, it was my dad's voice, coming out of my mouth... After a few moments of stunned silence, I started to laugh...
I am one who believes that everyone can be an example, as even a bad example is still an example. There was much that I wanted to change when I started my own family. For one, my family was never really affectionate. Mom and Dad would simply say, "Good night." No "Love you's," or "Sweet dreams," just Good night. I don't ever remember being "tucked in," or getting read bedtime stories, just a "Good night," after which I was expected to go to sleep. I'm not calling my parents "bad examples," but their parenting could have been better, so the answer to "What would Dad do?" was often the opposite of what I would do.
For one thing, my family never hugged each other. Growing up in a non-demonstrative home, you don't realize how important it is to be hugged. After Tyffany was born, it was "hugs and kisses" at bedtime, when I came home from work, as well as any number of other occasions. I told my kids, every day, that I loved them, and was proud of them. My dad waited until I was 50 before he told me he was proud of me. I spent my entire life trying to make my dad proud of me, and would have killed to hear those words. When he finally got around to it, it didn't mean as much to me as it would have when I was young. By the time he said it, I had retired from the Navy, gone to college and got my Bachelor's, and was teaching. Hell, I was pretty proud of myself, and really didn't need validation from anyone.
I never did get any respect from my sisters, who felt it their business to tell me how to raise my family, despite the fact that one sister refused to see that one of her kids had learning disabilities and needed help, and the other was a meth-head. I've been vindicated, however, as my kids are all serving in positions that help people, and animals. I am extremely proud of my children, and the people they've become, even if one hasn't talked to me in four years, and one has rejected my beliefs. Other than not being able to see my two granddaughters, there are no regrets. We taught them to stand up for themselves, and they have. It doesn't mean I've stopped loving them, or praying for them. It also doesn't mean that I plan to make any changes to accommodate them. Mary and I get along just fine, since I'm married to her, and have completed my obligations to my kids, I am pretty happy with my life. Happy, not complacent...
I know there are things in my life that need work... I also know that, at the present time, I lack the knowledge to make these changes, but I trust that that knowledge will be made available to me in the future. We either keep growing, or we start dying, and at 65, I'm not quite ready to go. I'm not ready to claim omniscience quite yet, either.
In the Book of Mormon, the prophet Nephi tells us that, "... man is that he might have joy." A latter-day prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley tells us that there is great joy in obeying the commandments of God, doing His will, and honoring the covenants we make with him. That we should, "Be happy. Don't get discouraged, [because] [t]hings will work out."
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