Monday, November 12, 2007

My Dad



My dad is an intriguing person. He grew up in upper Michigan. His passion was the outdoors. He loved camping, fishing, and hunting. He had two sisters, one older, one much younger. He spent his life outside. One of my favourite pictures of him is one where he is feeding a deer out in the woods. He and his friends had built a log cabin and there were many deer around. It took me a long time to understand how he could hunt *and* love animals.

He joined the United States Marine Corps right out of high school. He was sent to Korea.

He was in the Battle of Chosin Reservoir and almost lost his feet and his life. He was told in an evacuation hospital that they were going to amputate both of his feet because of how they had frozen. He told a Corpsman nearby that he was holding him personally responsible for making sure they did NOT do that and that there would be "hell to pay" if it happened. The Corpsman held his promise, dad kept his feet.

He came back to the USA and became a recruiter for the USMC in Morgantown, West Virginia. He met and married my mom and then a few years later had me. They were a happy young couple, but my Dad's career in the Marine Corps was not a simple one.

He was telling me a story a few years ago about how he'd recruit young men into the Corps. Many of them were sent overseas to fight. Many did not come back alive. As one of the few Marine Corps personnel in Morgantown, he'd be called upon to attend the funerals. He said it was quite emotional realizing that he'd recruited these young men (who were just about his age) and then would attend their funerals within the year. It was one of the first times that his emotions about things he saw and did in the military showed. I started to see my dad differently than I ever had.

He didn't talk much about his military life while I was growing up. He retired when he was 40 (and I was 15), and started a second life as a civilian. I got to know both men. One was a Marine Captain who rose through the ranks as an enlisted man. The other was as a mellowing southern gentleman with a past that he only rarely spoke of.

Now he occasionally tells stories. Some are about his two tours in Vietnam (where I thought he was just an engineer building bridges), his life in Michigan as a child, his many friendships and joys. I'm always struck with how glad I am to still have him in my life, realizing how often he was in danger.

Right now he's fighting another kind of battle. His body, which has carried him through enormous turmoil and unfathomable joys, is aging. Over the past 5 months he has had radiation treatment for cancer and major heart surgery. He is recovering, but I know that he won't be around forever.

We're close but I wish I knew him better. I wish there was unlimited time. I wish we were not so much closer to the end. I wish I had understood these things when I was younger and had him nearby.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

A Full Circle



Watching your children unfold into the adults they will become is an amazing journey. They absorb and integrate everything and every person they encounter. They (as we) are always in a state of "becoming."

One of my earliest Montessori students, Hannah, has come a full circle, and is now a teacher in a Montessori school. She wrote to me a few days ago telling me about her new life adventure and sharing the blog she and her boyfriend are keeping.

This young woman is the daughter of a very, very dear friend and has herself become one of my friends.

The picture above was of our Kindergarten class when Hannah was a student. Hannah's mom Roberta drew the picture. It was so much fun figuring out who was who. What cherished memories it unearths!

I thought you might enjoy reading about her adventures.

Here's a link to her blog.