I know my father’s Army dog tag number by heart. My brother uses it on his key ring. I’ve also given my brother the artillery shell Dad’s cousin gave him, engraved and to be used as a coin bank, in 1945.
Yes, a friend was called up yesterday. While they always tried to recruit from local schools my brother went to college and is now an executive director of a non-profit organization.
My Dad had to go. As the only college graduate, he got to stripe roads. So he said the troops needed morale and managed and played in a symphony that toured the greatest cities of Europe and never had to double-time again.
His friends all came to him asking to get in. What do you play? Nothing? Here’s a tambourine, et al. There was no war going on, only saber-rattling for the Cold War.
I told my friend to learn an instrument or get cymbals or a triangle. Also, I’ve offered to write to get him into Officers Candidate School. He deserves it and is smart, dedicated, loyal and true.
Yesterday I told him if I had a son, it would be like him. If this eldest child had a big brother, I’d want him to be another friend who would kick butt and ask questions later.
As the Stones say, you can’t always get what you want. But then my husband cooked me dinner, first time in 12 years, and we’ll try it again in 2025 when I’m ready to clean up again after the cooking tornado who cooked toast at age four and just spent the next 30 years before turning it into a grilled cheese sandwich…. Cheers and here’s to making lemonade out of a lemon. Dee
Cooking with Dee 