WWII: They Did Their Job

I considered writing this on November 10 in honor of Veteran’s Day and my children’s grandfather. Somehow the urgency did not seem quite right, though; the timing was off. But today seems appropriate.  Possibly it’s because I know next week marks the anniversary of the day Father-in-law married Mother-in-law in 1945.

I think about them as a young couple with hopes and dreams stretching out before them. Only the war stood in their way of marrying earlier than they did.

Shortly before his death, my Father-in-law showed me pictures of himself as a young man during World War II. I mean he really was young. He was a leader and pilot at age 20, bombing Burma and landing in India, then flying back to China up and over the Himalaya Mountains.

 

“You were just boys!” I exclaimed.

“But we did our job,” he replied.

“Yes, you did,” I agreed, “And I for one appreciate your service.”

 

I always knew him to be most patriotic and proud of our country, and his funeral included military honors. He talked with my son, the Crown Prince, about his experiences, but he seldom mentioned them to his own children. He did not want to remember the horrors of war.

Today I look at the pictures of the boy who took on a man’s responsibilities to fight for freedom. His serious facial features are identical to that of his oldest grandson, my nephew.

I think of the plans he had for his future: marry his sweetheart, go to college, have a good career, and raise children. He met all those goals successfully. The GI Bill financed his education. Boeing acquired an excellent engineer and mathematician who worked loyally and faithfully for 40 years. Wichita had a virtuous citizen who paid his bills and own property.

Of course during the time he was at war, he only hoped he would live long enough to carry them through.

He didn’t know that he would father four children. And he had no way of anticipating the ADHD trait behaviors that would permit his family.

In fairness to him, he had no idea those behaviors existed; he only studied airplanes. He couldn’t guess that the manners that attracted him to his young wife had some type of label or description.

Husband thinks it wouldn’t matter. His Dad would not have wanted to know about ADHD. He might have associated it with mental illness.

After Husband was diagnosed with ADHD, Father-in-law said, “He didn’t get it from me.”

I think he was afraid of criticism aimed at his own mother, a victim of schizophrenia.

“I don’t think he inherited ADHD from you, either. His way of thinking is more like his Mother’s.”

Father-in-law successfully fought in a world war, but it was difficult for him to maneuver the battles associated with ADHD in his own home. ADHD often brings chaos into family dynamics: frustration, lack of follow-through, temper explosions, and a general lack of understanding.

I think Father-in-law would have welcomed teaching about ADHD in his younger days as a husband and father. He had certainly demonstrated his bravery in other situations, and during the years I knew him, he always demonstrated a quest for learning. He would have been curious, if nothing else.

How about you? Aren’t you curious to know more about the effects of ADHD in your own family? What types of calm do you desire in your family?

At McNay & Voth ADHD Services we offer the training and information other young fathers and mothers can use as they parent their children and teens with ADHD.  We can help you discover the strategies that lead to calm.

We invite you to contact us at www.coachadhd and let us know how we can support you.

Celebrating Another Anniversary

We had not really celebrated when our second anniversary on the actual date. My Dad died three weeks before, and my Mom came to stay with us a few weeks. On the actual anniversary, we took her with us to a nice restaurant.

For me that would have been enough, but I am blessed that Husband is a true romantic.

Weeks later, Husband suggested we try a real celebration with dinner at a favorite dreamy spot.

“Let’s go the Holiday Inn Plaza downtown,” he suggested. “We can have salads and split-pea soup.”

I rubbed the baby bump that seemed to be growing every day and thought of the first-born child we expected in less than one month.

“I think I can handle that,” I cautioned. “Foods like that should be OK for me and Bingo.”  I referred to the nickname we affectionately called our child.

“I remember the night I took you there on our first date, the second time around.”  He tends to treat such memories with undue emphasis on the feeling and with excessive nostalgia, but that is fine with me. I love being the focus of his feeling. “I remembering being wound-up with the thought of us being together again; I really wanted to take you to a nice place.”

And it was a nice place for the early 1970’s. The backs on the wicker chairs were exceptionally tall and curved toward each other, making a canopy over the table. Each setting was private and cozy.

“I like the service there,” I admitted, still thinking if salad and pea soup would settle well with my condition. “I think there will be room for my belly.”

“Afterwards we can drive around on a lengthy tour of the city and county just as we did on that other night.” He looked toward the ceiling where he viewed the vision of a long car ride.

“One or two differences between now and then,” I reminded him. “I was not pregnant and needing to stop for a bathroom, and we had not seen each other for several months. Now I have to go frequently, and we have been talking every day for over two years.”

“ Good. You like the idea.”

We chose a lovely fall night that had a bit of a nip in the air. I clearly remember wearing the cape I made to accommodate my expanding body. I flapped along like a bat on growth hormones.

The Plaza was built with a kiva-like lower level leading to the restaurant, symbolizing our Native American roots in Wichita. I handled the steps well without having to actual crawl down them, and we stepped inside the warmth of the lobby with anticipation.

Husband wore the purple denim jacket I made for him our first Christmas. “I like that you wore that jacket. It still looks very nice on you.”

“My wife made it for me.”  He said it with pride.

Settling at a table with memories rushing through his head forced Husband’s brain to race like a car.

“Did I ever tell you what I did after that first date? I went home and told my sister Debby that I was going to marry you.”

“You did? That was quite an assumption.”

“And she said, ‘I didn’t know you have been seeing Atha.’ ”

“Oh, I haven’t. This is the first time I have seen her in over a year. But I am going to marry her.”

About that time the waitress came to take our beverage order. Still wrapped in his euphoria, Husband leaned across the table with a huge smile and called me by my maiden name.

“So, tell me, Miss Simers, what have you been doing with yourself lately?”

The waitress looked dumbfounded at me, and I smiled in return.

Then, I learned back in my chair and began patting my huge maternity belly.

Startled, Husband grabbed the cloth napkin on his left, opened it, and fanned his face vigorously. The red color crawled up his neck and across his face.

We laughed heartedly, and the waitress laughed with us.

He was so embarrassed, he couldn’t order dinner, so I did it for the two of us. “Coffee for him, ice tea for me, two chef salads and two bowls of split-pea soup. We are celebrating our second wedding anniversary.”

The Marriage Proposal

In honor of our wedding anniversary which will take place the end of this month, July 27, I am going to repost earlier blog. I love telling this story.

I expect many women remember details of the day or night when their love proposed marriage, and I am no exception.

 It was a lovely Sunday afternoon at the end of May. I wore an attractive and stylish spring-like red dress because my tall, handsome boyfriend was taking me to the graduation ceremonies at my Alma Mater, Friends University. I admit I looked really nice.

When he got there, he seemed a bit nervous to me, but by then I was accustomed to him being either moody or nervous. I probably thought something “set it off” on his way to our house. 

He sat with me on the sofa in the living room as we talked with my Mom and Dad and exchanged pleasantries about the weather and the upcoming graduation ceremony.

Suddenly without any seeming connection to our conversation, he pulled a box from his pocket and presented me with a lovely bracelet with Snoopy dangling on it.

“Oh,how cute!”  I said as I began to put it on my wrist.

He got down on his knee. “Look on the chain,” he said. “See this? It’s an engagement ring. Will you marry me, my dear?”  

He began taking the ring off the chain to slip it on my finger.

Oh, yes, he really asked in front of my parents.

Time stood still. I wanted to crawl underneath the sofa.

I sat there with that Dagwood-Bumstead smile crinkled across my face before I answered yes.

I loved my parents, and as their only daughter I knew I was special to them, but for some reason, I never dreamed of receiving a proposal of marriage in front of them. It threw the entire sense of romance out the window.

My Dad turned red as Mom cried.

My husband-to-be rushed on. “This is the ring my Dad gave to Mom when they got engaged in 1945. I asked her if she had one I could give you tonight.”

He actually told me all about it.  My love had it in mind to propose, and he thought the night of graduation would be excellent.

Actually, I think he finally got up the nerve. 

There was only one problem. Typically, he had not gotten around to buying a ring or special piece of jewelry, so he talked with his parents.

 “I want to ask Atha to marry me tonight, but I don’t have a ring. What have you got around here?”

So much for planning ahead, right?

Later, his mother said she offered him her old engagement ring because she didn’t want him to change his mind, and she loved the idea of me wearing it.

My husband was so pleased and so excited, or possibly so relieved to get that part over with that he leaned back on the sofa and sighed loudly.

 He had focused his mind on proposing to me, and he could not wait for another time. It was then or nothing.

I am glad it was then, and I know he thinks what was the big deal? After all I said yes, and here we are all these years later.

Now I understand that individuals with ADHD may become so anxious about a task or plan that they put off completing the details, which merely adds to the anxiety. They often do not plan ahead. They may experience chronic procrastination more frequently than typical individuals. They put off important tasks or the ones that take more thought and energy. In this case, it was the task that was going to cost him more money.

The pattern for our marriage was set.

In our story, Husband could not wait until we were alone at dinner. He was driven to act at that moment. He could not consider the inappropriateness of proposing marriage in front of Mom or Dad. It seemed romantic enough for him. So what if it wasn’t my own ring? (His parents did give us that ring with their blessing.)  He figured we would get around to buying me a new ring in the future.

That is an entire other story.