Remembering...
This week my Parents would have been married 69 years.
Mom was a young and beautiful 16 year old in Mobile Alabama and Dad was a young strapping sailor stationed at NAS Pensacola Florida which was about 45 miles away.
Dad's roommate Tully had a date with Mom's oldest sister Inez but my Grandfather wouldn't let any of his 9 girls date alone (Grandpa was also the Sherriff of Mobile County... so ya did what he wanted) so Tully asked Dad to come along and double date with "the kid sister". When the two young sailors arrived on G Street in Pritchard (Mobile) Alabama my Mother was sitting on the front porch swing cutting out paper dolls and when the young men walked up she hid the scissors and dolls the only place she had... underneath her. Even though the scissors were poking her in the bottom she wouldn't let them know she was playing with paper dolls.
Well, one thing led to another and about a year or so later Dot and Dick were married and honeymooned in the thriving metropolis of Milton Florida and stayed at the Exchange Hotel (which is still there). They moved into Petty Officer's housing on NAS Pensacola as Dad was now an AOM 1st Class. Life was good for a short while and then came December 7th 1941.
The base went on lockdown after the attack on Pearl Harbor happened, all of the "regular Navy" blokes (i.e. Regular Navy were the guys already IN the Navy when the war started) were shipped out to the fleet and Dad was assigned to the air group on the 1st USS Lexington. He arrived on board ship in time for the Battle of the Coral Sea which was the first naval battle where the two opposing sides never sighted one another. All the fighting was done by aircraft for the first time ever.
The Lexington was sunk, Dad swam away and was rescued. He returned to the states for his 30 days survivor leave in California. He wasn't there long when he was promoted to Chief Aviation Ordnanceman and shipped right back to the Pacific, this time in an air group aboard the new light carrier USS Bataan. Here he would spend the rest of the war, only learning by mail (several months later) of the birth of his first child of four.
Connie was born on November 22nd 1942. Connie would not see her Daddy until she was nearly 6 years old. After the end of the war, Dad returned home and life picked up somewhat where they left off. Dad left the Navy and got a job with my Grandfather on the Sheriff's department in Mobile County Alabama although the Navy would come calling twice more in Dad's life and recall him to active duty for Korea and Vietnam until he eventually retired from naval service as a Chief Warrant Officer.
In August of 1948, along comes my middle Sister; Phylis Irene. From the very beginning she was Daddy's girl! In fact, during her entire life; Phylis only received ONE spanking from Dad and he felt so bad at having spanked her that he took her right out and bought her a new dress! Much to the chagrin of the older Connie (to this day in fact, LOL).
Well, the family moved back to Dad's boyhood home of St. Petersburg Florida and took a job with the Equitable Insurance Company and before you knew it along came a SON, finally a SON. Little Boy Gregg did not survive long enough to even be given a name and his parents and sisters were heartbroken but their unbending love for each other kept them together through it all.
Mom and Dad gave up on having the Son that they always wanted and life got back to normal. And then low and behold in August of 1958...boom! Along comes that boy they had waited for; and God help them all now, LOL. I was born on 28 August 1958 at St. Anthony's Hospital in downtown St. Petersburg Florida. Dad had been moonlighting at night selling coffee to cafes and bars for the Cooper Coffee Company to "pay for me". We are / were a very close family, rarely argued, discussed everything important before making a decision and my Parents quickly became my best friends. A friendship that lasts through to today.
January of 1998 Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease and over the next ten years I watched as the only hero I ever had shrank in both memory and stature into someone who barely knew me or the rest of his family. And for ten years I watched my Mother care for the love of her life with a tenderness that continues to amaze me. She promised him "no homes or "facilities". Your place is at home with me and with me is where you shall stay until you are through here and go home one last time.
She kept her promise and in January of 2008 my Dad, the best friend I've ever known, the only hero I've ever needed and the rock of my very existence went home to his maker and now he hurts and suffers no more.
My Mother has lost the love of her life, her reason for getting up in the morning and her partner of so many years. Family has gathered around her and we nurture her as she did for each of us so many years ago; but she is a smaller and more frail person because of her struggle of the last ten years. Her mind is sharp and her smile as warm as the day I first saw it when she welcomed me into this world. So many memories flood my mind as I write this, trips, parties, good times and bad but always, always together and joined in love. My parents taught me what it meant to love, to value, to honor and to repay over and over debts that were given for no other reason than "because we love you". They taught me the difference between right and wrong, true and untrue, that a man is only as good as his word and that a man will give his very life and breath for that that he believes in and loves the most and that if a man compromises these things that he is a weaker being because of it. I frequently fall short of the pillars that my Dad set forth, and as I was taught; I am a lesser man because of it. I alone can decide if I can live with this or not. Sometimes what doesn't appear right at first is exactly what is right for you in the long run. I am a patriot today because of my Father's example and teachings and will remain so until my own last breath one day.
So many memories, so many happy memories. Loving faces, warm touches, funny stories, adventurous times and the one word that keeps coming back to me is "together". That is how we did things... Together. I love my Mother and Father more than I can express. I am grateful to them in so many indescribable ways for not only my very existence but for who I am today. Not always proud of the choices I make but always in the knowledge that no matter what, I will be loved. I miss my Father terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him and our time together.
On the last day that I saw my Father alive, he was brought out to me in a wheelchair and was slumped forward and nearly limp. My Brother in Law who was caring for him bent over and spoke into Dad's ear and said "Dick, you remember that little boy you had? Well he's here, it's Victor; Dick. He's right there." My Father raised his head out of the slump that had become so familiar and the blank and distant eyes looked at me and it was if a weak little light was turned on and his eyes once again lit up and a small and weak smile came over his face when his eyes locked onto mine. And in less time than it took to read this, it was gone. The blank stare and lost eyes returned and then that evening Dad slipped into a coma and the next morning he was gone. But MY FATHER SAW ME AND KNEW ME. HE SAW ME AND HE KNEW HIS SON WAS THERE, and he smiled at me.
The next morning Dad's breathing became weaker and weaker and about ten AM my Mother and my Sisters and I gathered round Dad, we laid our hands on him and one by one we said thank you to him for all he had done for us; that he had fought such a brave fight; that we loved him; and that I would take care of Mom and the girls like he had taught me to do for so many years, and that he could rest, relax and when he saw the hand of the Lord he should reach out and take it and go home, we would be alright. Less than an hour later, Dad was gone.
Mom was caught somewhere between relief and grief where she remains to this day. She is a stong woman and is working her way steadily through the stages of grief with the help of all of us.
The days don't seem quite as bright as they used to for me. I feel a hole in my heart that nothing seems to fill; no matter how hard I try. I miss my Dad, I always called him "Daddy", so much it hurts. It's like a part of me has gone away and has become lost. But don't be mistaken, I do feel his presence. I know that my Dad will be with me always and that I will see him again one day. That day is what I pin my hope upon.
Richard Bentley Gregg, thou good and faithful servant; pass forth now into thy reward laid up for you in heaven.
Dorothy Iona Gibson-Gregg; thou good and faithful servant. Much riches are laid up for you in heaven and here on earth.
Mom and Dad always told us that we were the richest folks in town because after all... We Had Each Other.
October 23rd, 1939 - October 23rd, 2008.
I Love You Mom and Dad.......
Victor
Update as of January 2023: My dear mother, Dorothy Iona Gibson - Gregg went to home to meet her maker after a long battle with dementia. Her end was not calm, quiet or merciful. It was terrible and I could not get there fast enough to be with her at the end. My mother became very angry after my father's death. She became angry at my father and also with others that she loved. She particularly carried a huge load of anger toward me for I was the one that was tasked with forcing my mother to move out of her and my father's house and move in with my oldest sister Connie. Mom passed away on May 6, 2013. I did not arrive until the next day. I had been out of the country on business and simply could not get there in time.
Mom's earthly remains were interred with my father's remains at Barrancas National Cemetery on board Naval Air Station, Pensacola Florida where so much of both sides of our family have been stationed, went to school and / or are interred there as well. My parents are together again, the only place they ever wanted to be. Both my sisters have passed away from dementia or alzheimer's and I find myself feeling so incredibly alone these last few years. I know that I will see them again one day and that gives me some comfort. My family is mostly disjointed now and broken up. The glue that my parents represented that held the clan so closely together is gone..... and the clan has not survived the loss. My own children are estranged from me and my only son, Nathan and I have not spoken in over six years. I miss all my children terribly and sadly of my six grandchildren.... I've only met one. Things just aren't right with the world anymore and I've given up trying to fix things. They are what they are. My own decisions and behavior are much to blame and I carry that with me daily. My parents would not approve of my decisions or behavior but I have come somewhat to terms with that. One day, one day...
Remembering...
This week my Parents would have been married 69 years.
Mom was a young and beautiful 16 year old in Mobile Alabama and Dad was a young strapping sailor stationed at NAS Pensacola Florida which was about 45 miles away.
Dad's roommate Tully had a date with Mom's oldest sister Inez but my Grandfather wouldn't let any of his 9 girls date alone (Grandpa was also the Sherriff of Mobile County... so ya did what he wanted) so Tully asked Dad to come along and double date with "the kid sister". When the two young sailors arrived on G Street in Pritchard (Mobile) Alabama my Mother was sitting on the front porch swing cutting out paper dolls and when the young men walked up she hid the scissors and dolls the only place she had... underneath her. Even though the scissors were poking her in the bottom she wouldn't let them know she was playing with paper dolls.
Well, one thing led to another and about a year or so later Dot and Dick were married and honeymooned in the thriving metropolis of Milton Florida and stayed at the Exchange Hotel (which is still there). They moved into Petty Officer's housing on NAS Pensacola as Dad was now an AOM 1st Class. Life was good for a short while and then came December 7th 1941.
The base went on lockdown after the attack on Pearl Harbor happened, all of the "regular Navy" blokes (i.e. Regular Navy were the guys already IN the Navy when the war started) were shipped out to the fleet and Dad was assigned to the air group on the 1st USS Lexington. He arrived on board ship in time for the Battle of the Coral Sea which was the first naval battle where the two opposing sides never sighted one another. All the fighting was done by aircraft for the first time ever.
The Lexington was sunk, Dad swam away and was rescued. He returned to the states for his 30 days survivor leave in California. He wasn't there long when he was promoted to Chief Aviation Ordnanceman and shipped right back to the Pacific, this time in an air group aboard the new light carrier USS Bataan. Here he would spend the rest of the war, only learning by mail (several months later) of the birth of his first child of four.
Connie was born on November 22nd 1942. Connie would not see her Daddy until she was nearly 6 years old. After the end of the war, Dad returned home and life picked up somewhat where they left off. Dad left the Navy and got a job with my Grandfather on the Sheriff's department in Mobile County Alabama although the Navy would come calling twice more in Dad's life and recall him to active duty for Korea and Vietnam until he eventually retired from naval service as a Chief Warrant Officer.
In August of 1948, along comes my middle Sister; Phylis Irene. From the very beginning she was Daddy's girl! In fact, during her entire life; Phylis only received ONE spanking from Dad and he felt so bad at having spanked her that he took her right out and bought her a new dress! Much to the chagrin of the older Connie (to this day in fact, LOL).
Well, the family moved back to Dad's boyhood home of St. Petersburg Florida and took a job with the Equitable Insurance Company and before you knew it along came a SON, finally a SON. Little Boy Gregg did not survive long enough to even be given a name and his parents and sisters were heartbroken but their unbending love for each other kept them together through it all.
Mom and Dad gave up on having the Son that they always wanted and life got back to normal. And then low and behold in August of 1958...boom! Along comes that boy they had waited for; and God help them all now, LOL. I was born on 28 August 1958 at St. Anthony's Hospital in downtown St. Petersburg Florida. Dad had been moonlighting at night selling coffee to cafes and bars for the Cooper Coffee Company to "pay for me". We are / were a very close family, rarely argued, discussed everything important before making a decision and my Parents quickly became my best friends. A friendship that lasts through to today.
January of 1998 Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease and over the next ten years I watched as the only hero I ever had shrank in both memory and stature into someone who barely knew me or the rest of his family. And for ten years I watched my Mother care for the love of her life with a tenderness that continues to amaze me. She promised him "no homes or "facilities". Your place is at home with me and with me is where you shall stay until you are through here and go home one last time.
She kept her promise and in January of 2008 my Dad, the best friend I've ever known, the only hero I've ever needed and the rock of my very existence went home to his maker and now he hurts and suffers no more.
My Mother has lost the love of her life, her reason for getting up in the morning and her partner of so many years. Family has gathered around her and we nurture her as she did for each of us so many years ago; but she is a smaller and more frail person because of her struggle of the last ten years. Her mind is sharp and her smile as warm as the day I first saw it when she welcomed me into this world. So many memories flood my mind as I write this, trips, parties, good times and bad but always, always together and joined in love. My parents taught me what it meant to love, to value, to honor and to repay over and over debts that were given for no other reason than "because we love you". They taught me the difference between right and wrong, true and untrue, that a man is only as good as his word and that a man will give his very life and breath for that that he believes in and loves the most and that if a man compromises these things that he is a weaker being because of it. I frequently fall short of the pillars that my Dad set forth, and as I was taught; I am a lesser man because of it. I alone can decide if I can live with this or not. Sometimes what doesn't appear right at first is exactly what is right for you in the long run. I am a patriot today because of my Father's example and teachings and will remain so until my own last breath one day.
So many memories, so many happy memories. Loving faces, warm touches, funny stories, adventurous times and the one word that keeps coming back to me is "together". That is how we did things... Together. I love my Mother and Father more than I can express. I am grateful to them in so many indescribable ways for not only my very existence but for who I am today. Not always proud of the choices I make but always in the knowledge that no matter what, I will be loved. I miss my Father terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him and our time together.
On the last day that I saw my Father alive, he was brought out to me in a wheelchair and was slumped forward and nearly limp. My Brother in Law who was caring for him bent over and spoke into Dad's ear and said "Dick, you remember that little boy you had? Well he's here, it's Victor; Dick. He's right there." My Father raised his head out of the slump that had become so familiar and the blank and distant eyes looked at me and it was if a weak little light was turned on and his eyes once again lit up and a small and weak smile came over his face when his eyes locked onto mine. And in less time than it took to read this, it was gone. The blank stare and lost eyes returned and then that evening Dad slipped into a coma and the next morning he was gone. But MY FATHER SAW ME AND KNEW ME. HE SAW ME AND HE KNEW HIS SON WAS THERE, and he smiled at me.
The next morning Dad's breathing became weaker and weaker and about ten AM my Mother and my Sisters and I gathered round Dad, we laid our hands on him and one by one we said thank you to him for all he had done for us; that he had fought such a brave fight; that we loved him; and that I would take care of Mom and the girls like he had taught me to do for so many years, and that he could rest, relax and when he saw the hand of the Lord he should reach out and take it and go home, we would be alright. Less than an hour later, Dad was gone.
Mom was caught somewhere between relief and grief where she remains to this day. She is a stong woman and is working her way steadily through the stages of grief with the help of all of us.
The days don't seem quite as bright as they used to for me. I feel a hole in my heart that nothing seems to fill; no matter how hard I try. I miss my Dad, I always called him "Daddy", so much it hurts. It's like a part of me has gone away and has become lost. But don't be mistaken, I do feel his presence. I know that my Dad will be with me always and that I will see him again one day. That day is what I pin my hope upon.
Richard Bentley Gregg, thou good and faithful servant; pass forth now into thy reward laid up for you in heaven.
Dorothy Iona Gibson-Gregg; thou good and faithful servant. Much riches are laid up for you in heaven and here on earth.
Mom and Dad always told us that we were the richest folks in town because after all... We Had Each Other.
October 23rd, 1939 - October 23rd, 2008.
I Love You Mom and Dad.......
Victor
Update as of January 2023: My dear mother, Dorothy Iona Gibson - Gregg went to home to meet her maker after a long battle with dementia. Her end was not calm, quiet or merciful. It was terrible and I could not get there fast enough to be with her at the end. My mother became very angry after my father's death. She became angry at my father and also with others that she loved. She particularly carried a huge load of anger toward me for I was the one that was tasked with forcing my mother to move out of her and my father's house and move in with my oldest sister Connie. Mom passed away on May 6, 2013. I did not arrive until the next day. I had been out of the country on business and simply could not get there in time.
Mom's earthly remains were interred with my father's remains at Barrancas National Cemetery on board Naval Air Station, Pensacola Florida where so much of both sides of our family have been stationed, went to school and / or are interred there as well. My parents are together again, the only place they ever wanted to be. Both my sisters have passed away from dementia or alzheimer's and I find myself feeling so incredibly alone these last few years. I know that I will see them again one day and that gives me some comfort. My family is mostly disjointed now and broken up. The glue that my parents represented that held the clan so closely together is gone..... and the clan has not survived the loss. My own children are estranged from me and my only son, Nathan and I have not spoken in over six years. I miss all my children terribly and sadly of my six grandchildren.... I've only met one. Things just aren't right with the world anymore and I've given up trying to fix things. They are what they are. My own decisions and behavior are much to blame and I carry that with me daily. My parents would not approve of my decisions or behavior but I have come somewhat to terms with that. One day, one day...