Decoration Day

I talked with my Dad today. He is 82 years old and was in the Navy at the end of World War II. Here he is with his 28th and youngest grandchild, my little Mite. He was telling me how Memorial day used to be called Decoration Day. He used to go to the cemetary with Grandma Buck (his Mom; remember, he was Two Bits as a boy) to plant flowers on the family graves on Decoration Day. As a young boy he learned about the "Decoration of Independence" at school and so connected the two days together. I suppose kids have been saying cute things for as long as there have been cute kids. My little Cents has been full of them the past week or so. We were out with our strollers, Mite in the one I was pushing and "Ariel" in her little stroller, when we ran into a mom we know from down the block and her two sons. Cents told the boys she "would really appreciate if they would come and play at my house." So down the block we went together. Cents was chatting it up with the Mom along the way when I heard her answer the question about whether we walk our babies together often with, "I don't ordinarily take my baby for a walk." A few days later we visited the GR Children's Museum and spent some time together in a triangular mirror tunnel. Cents and I had fun counting how many Cents we could see. Then we began counting Moms when Cents said, "lets get out of here, this is disturbing." Honestly, this girl has a better vocabulary than I do. I'm often stuck on: "can you bring me that thingy over there on the, the, ummmm, the table." I'm certain these kids have helped themselves to whatever brains I once had - and they are using them against me! : )

Since it's Memorial Day, let me tell you a new story I learned about my Dad and his time in the Navy. He chose to graduate early so that he could enlist before being drafted. By the end of the war, they were drafting by the 18th birthday, so some schools arranged for summer school and early graduation so that they could go to war with their diploma completed. Following in his big brothers' footsteps (that would be the original Buck and Half Buck), he chose the Navy. After some time aboard a ship and some testing, the Navy sent him to U of M for training in engineering. That is where he was when Truman dropped the bombs that ended the war. He has always been thankful, as he feels this saved his life. After the war, he returned to U of M to finish a degree, and served in the Naval Reserve. It wasn't until recently that he was able to tell this story, as it was deemed classified. Basically he was sent to language school at nights as a reserve to learn Russian and codebreaking (there is probably some technical term for this, but you would need to get it from Cents). After several months, his day job needed to send him out of state for a few months, so he checked in with his superior officer and recieved permission to miss his training and take the assignment out of state, with the understanding that he would continue training when he returned. Upon his return, he simply couldn't find the class or the instructor. It appears they were called up to active duty while he was away!!! And that is how my Dad didn't become a more active part of the Cold War! This was just fascinating to me because of the "what ifs" it entailed: if he had been called up to active duty, he wouldn't have been around to meet my Mom....and then all eleven of us wouldn't have been around! Those of us raised on movies like Back to the Future can spot these turning point moments where our life could have gone elsewhere, but didn't. I could have been fading away right out of the photo to be replaced by some resonably sized family. But he met my mom, had 11 children, giving Mary 5 a Russian nickname, and being really interested when my hubby and I went to spend a year in Russia when our own little Buck was a year old. He even gave me some books to help us out. But he never told us of his time studying Russian. It was only two years ago, when he looked into his military record and found that the this informations was no longer classified, that he passed the story on to me.