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Marriage. There were many details not considered while single; autonomous. I should have known. Looking back is always 20/20, they say.
My sister, older, wiser, was married 11/27/1947. Paul Wilson was born 2/10/1949. Her second marriage 11/14/1951. Eventually, Hank adopted Paul.
They officially discharged Dick 5/17/1946; time to meet, days of dating, talking, planning, dreaming and a self-determining, self-regulated, self-focused existence, married 4/2/1948. Married, with a newborn, the military offered several benefits. Bonus to reenlist, regular income, housing, medical, and, for now, stability. Also turns out to provide future educational opportunities and, for now, on-the-job training. It all seems so doable. Thirteen months later, 5/3/1949, Keith arrived. Our best option, eventually, was to reenlist, 12/17/1952. We were subject to Navy’s rules, so Brooklyn, NY, it was to be. Living with our respective parents was what we were moving away from. We’re now independent, mature adults. Discharged November 1953. Our second child, a daughter, arrived 2/16/1955.
On weekends, when Dad was on leave, we would drive back to Elmira. These trips were at night and they could find me curled up in the car’s back window and, with any luck, a vehicle with lights ablaze would follow close behind. Nothing… is exactly what I can share about these quick visits back to Elmira. I can remember traveling from Brooklyn to Elmira and Elmira to Brooklyn, that’s all, folks.
I needed this time at home for family. Home? Well, at least familiar surroundings. Adult conversations. Time with my sister, whose son was two months older than Keith. How was she doing as a parent? How was the marriage progressing? Was it all she expected? I needed this time.
Gaps on the timeline, hidden in a void, seemingly irretrievable. In time, we moved to Queens to what felt like a real “New York apartment.” Never saw the outside! Same rule: never go outside the building, or in this case, the apartment. Dad is still in and out, I assume, serving our country. He always looks very distinguished in his uniform.
I remember, at a parent’s request, playing hide and seek, I remember sitting quietly in a dark closest, waiting. Until called out. Yeah! Where was Dad? Dad was gone.
He said he was going out with his shipmates. I wondered? Only once did a seaman drop by to pick Dick up. With a quick introduction, they were gone. With no babysitter, it was expected I stay at home while he “bonded” with the boys, a little R and R. I always felt there was a bit more to the story he told, and he did not explain his evenings out, even when I asked. But I was duty bound to serve God first, then husband, family, others, and myself, last.
Still, I was alone.
Felt deserted.
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