HOW DO YOU SAY NO?

My time in the army was back when people got drafted. A letter from the Draft Board informed you that you had a duty to serve your country and that two years of soldering sounded just about right. I joined on my own, having nothing better to do. If you were in college or had just begun a great job with a promising future, too bad. Guys with a future saw the draft as a disaster but I saw the army as an escape, maybe even an adventure. Anyway, I can attest to the military axiom, ‘Hurry up and wait.’ We hurried everywhere and then waited for someone to go find out what to do or where to go next. 

When soldiers waited in the 50’s and 60’s, they smoked; what else? I didn’t and I didn’t care much for the 2nd hand smoke so I found a place where I could close my eyes. By the time my enlistment ended in 1961, I could get a five minute nap on a seven minute wait. I could sleep standing up if there was something to lean on. A dozen or more wake ups per day was normal for me. There were no incoming bullets or bombs to worry about and war talk was just talk. It was a different kind of Military. Nobody wanted to go ‘Over There’ and defend freedom. Peace had broken out and it wasn’t bad. If you liked regimentation and the sense of job security, if the camaraderie put you at ease; you might consider a career. Halfway through my three year obligation I knew I’d never fit in. But I did learn how to squeeze zzzzzzz’s into a smoke break.

After all these years, family and a career; I can still nod off for a few minutes any time, any place. If you could remember the moment you drift off, you wouldn’t drift off. It sneaks up on you. Even if you dream, it’s a dream; you have to be asleep. The wake-up is a moment of clarity. You’ve emerged from that dream world so many times, taking it for granted is easy. But I still get an “. . . oooh!” feeling when I come conscious. When is it? Where am I? It’s not that I actually ask the question but I grab at the handle on short term memory and get myself back into the present. This morning was typical. All of a sudden I knew I was awake but nothing else. I was warm and comfortable but it wasn’t my bed. Like a knee jerk reflex I located, like the chime my computer makes when it boots up. Motel room, Paris, Texas. I open my eyes and it’s really dark. New day. Life is good. Two days ago I woke up the same way, to the sound of my granddaughter’s voice and I knew. I’d checked out for a few minutes in an easy chair. They are remodeling and I spent the day helping my son install new flooring. 

Tonight I’m in San Antonio, TX at another son’s house. Thanksgiving is a few days away. Food and football are traditional but it is people you love who you celebrate. I’m in a good place. It’s a good time to be grateful. I remember a Michigan Thanksgiving at the farm house on Nottawa Road. It was a gray, blustery day with wind out of the north. All of us were lethargic from too much food so I got the kids in their coats and took them outside. Child’s play has always modeled adults at work. They had seen their mother raking leaves in the front yard so they took the rake to the side yard and created their own leaf pile. It was huge. We took turns covering each other up. Then we played like we were searching for the missing kid, calling out their name, shouting things like, “Where can she be?” and “I can’t believe he’s disappeared.” The search went on for ever-so long, maybe 8 or 10 minutes, all over the yard, up trees and around the house. I had given them a special word; can’t remember exactly what it was but when the appointed person said that word, the kid in the leaf pile jumped up and yelled, “Here I am!” We all jumped on each other in a dog-pile in the leaves. Leaves got pushed into a new pile and it was someone else’s turn to disappear. A different kid would be the new, special word person and we did it again, and again, and again. I even got my turn; they left me covered up for a lot longer than I thought was necessary but the coming out was unforgettable. The gray afternoon turned dark. We were hungry again and there was more pie in the kitchen. The wood stove had the family room cozy and ‘I Love Lucy’ was on our 17” Black & White TV.  

This Thanksgiving will have its own flavor, its own special people, make its own memories and I’ll probably wake up several times before the football games end, before the last piece of pie is sacrificed. I don’t anticipate any dog-piles or special words this year but then I wouldn’t rule them out either. Just when you think you are ready for a a good nap, you wake up and it's over. Somebody wants to go outside for a walk or a tumble and how do you say no to that?