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Thanksgiving month, days 12-13
Nov. 18th, 2011 08:45 pm(Crossposted from Google+)
Thanksgiving month, day 12:
I am thankful for my parents' marriage.
They married in 1937. Their friends joked that there would be a headline in the paper reading "Girl Marries Boy With Job." They relocated up north, to St. Louis. It was rough. Things were rough everywhere. She gave up a potential singing career for him--but she didn't see it that way; she hadn't been planning on going professional, though her voice teacher thought she should.
My eldest sister was born 9 months before Pearl Harbor. My father joined the Navy. He stayed stateside, working as an electrician. She moved back South, near the rest of the family, and stayed home with, by then, 2 kids.
He made it home OK. His favorite brother didn't. He had a hard time transitioning back to civilian life, but he did. He went to work for GE. It was a good job, good pay, good prospects. But they wanted to tell him where to live, who to socialize with. He saw the career ladder up ahead and stepped back off that first rung. I imagine she was scared (three kids by then), but I don't think she ever second-guessed that decision.
He taught himself music theory. He had an idea that vocal musicians should be expected to read music as proficiently as instrumental musicians. He spent about 30 years proving that it could be done, and in the process gained students so ardent they can rightfully be called disciples.
She taught voice. One of her students went on to become an operatic soprano, so in a sense that debt was paid off. She taught high school English. She changed lives. She too had disciples.
By the time I came along they'd had 24 years' practice being married to each other. I think they worked out a lot of the snags when my siblings were kids. I saw them argue, vehemently and often, but I never saw either of them treat the other with contempt. I never saw either of them treat the other as an inferior, or a child. They exasperated each other, and "I'll never understand your father" was almost daily in my mother's mouth, but they never talked down to each other. They had their differences about child-rearing, but they did a good job of presenting a united front when it came down to it.
They shared a lot: love of literature. Love of music. Religion (Episcopal; Daddy converted from Baptist. He went to confirmation classes on the sly so he could surprise her). They had some pretty sharp differences: Daddy loved animals and the outdoors; Mama could pretty much take them or leave them. Mama never forgave him for voting against FDR for his 3rd term ("you don't change Presidents in the middle of a war" vs. "two terms is enough for anybody").
They both loved to feed people. Nothing pleased Daddy as much as having one of us kids show up at 9 or 10 at night trailing a bunch of hungry college students; he could have a fish fry on 30 minutes notice. Mama worried about whether 3 kinds of pie were enough for Christmas dinner.
They used to talk softly in bed after the lights were out. Nearly every night I heard them laughing before I fell asleep.
There is no substitute for role models like that.
Thanksgiving month, day 13:
I am thankful for leafy sea dragons.
Why? Because they are awesome. And they don't need to be. There's no reason a functioning ecosystem has to have such incredibly elaborate specializations among its creatures. It just does. Evolution does that, apparently just for the hell of it. And best of all, for no particular reason our brains are so put together that the sight of such a startlingly odd animal, or the colors of the leaves in fall as chlorophyll is withdrawn back into the twigs, or the sound of birds advertising their territorial limits, or the smell of flowers trying to attract pollinators--these things give us pleasure. There's no evolutionary benefit, no competitive advantage; they're not aimed at us. But they bring us delight anyway.
For that I am thankful.
Thanksgiving month, day 12:
I am thankful for my parents' marriage.
They married in 1937. Their friends joked that there would be a headline in the paper reading "Girl Marries Boy With Job." They relocated up north, to St. Louis. It was rough. Things were rough everywhere. She gave up a potential singing career for him--but she didn't see it that way; she hadn't been planning on going professional, though her voice teacher thought she should.
My eldest sister was born 9 months before Pearl Harbor. My father joined the Navy. He stayed stateside, working as an electrician. She moved back South, near the rest of the family, and stayed home with, by then, 2 kids.
He made it home OK. His favorite brother didn't. He had a hard time transitioning back to civilian life, but he did. He went to work for GE. It was a good job, good pay, good prospects. But they wanted to tell him where to live, who to socialize with. He saw the career ladder up ahead and stepped back off that first rung. I imagine she was scared (three kids by then), but I don't think she ever second-guessed that decision.
He taught himself music theory. He had an idea that vocal musicians should be expected to read music as proficiently as instrumental musicians. He spent about 30 years proving that it could be done, and in the process gained students so ardent they can rightfully be called disciples.
She taught voice. One of her students went on to become an operatic soprano, so in a sense that debt was paid off. She taught high school English. She changed lives. She too had disciples.
By the time I came along they'd had 24 years' practice being married to each other. I think they worked out a lot of the snags when my siblings were kids. I saw them argue, vehemently and often, but I never saw either of them treat the other with contempt. I never saw either of them treat the other as an inferior, or a child. They exasperated each other, and "I'll never understand your father" was almost daily in my mother's mouth, but they never talked down to each other. They had their differences about child-rearing, but they did a good job of presenting a united front when it came down to it.
They shared a lot: love of literature. Love of music. Religion (Episcopal; Daddy converted from Baptist. He went to confirmation classes on the sly so he could surprise her). They had some pretty sharp differences: Daddy loved animals and the outdoors; Mama could pretty much take them or leave them. Mama never forgave him for voting against FDR for his 3rd term ("you don't change Presidents in the middle of a war" vs. "two terms is enough for anybody").
They both loved to feed people. Nothing pleased Daddy as much as having one of us kids show up at 9 or 10 at night trailing a bunch of hungry college students; he could have a fish fry on 30 minutes notice. Mama worried about whether 3 kinds of pie were enough for Christmas dinner.
They used to talk softly in bed after the lights were out. Nearly every night I heard them laughing before I fell asleep.
There is no substitute for role models like that.
Thanksgiving month, day 13:
I am thankful for leafy sea dragons.
Why? Because they are awesome. And they don't need to be. There's no reason a functioning ecosystem has to have such incredibly elaborate specializations among its creatures. It just does. Evolution does that, apparently just for the hell of it. And best of all, for no particular reason our brains are so put together that the sight of such a startlingly odd animal, or the colors of the leaves in fall as chlorophyll is withdrawn back into the twigs, or the sound of birds advertising their territorial limits, or the smell of flowers trying to attract pollinators--these things give us pleasure. There's no evolutionary benefit, no competitive advantage; they're not aimed at us. But they bring us delight anyway.
For that I am thankful.
