Mom was born in Wappingers Falls, New York to two Irish Catholics. Her mother was political activist, and suffragette who worked for a woman’s right to vote in the early 20th century. Grandma was proud to have been a Roosevelt Democrat, and later served on the local draft board, and as a delegate to two Democratic conventions. My grandfather was also a Democrat, and after serving in Europe as a dough-boy in WWI he returned to Wappingers, raised two children, was a Grand Knight in the Knights of Columbus, and dedicated his time to family, church, and local charities.
After graduating high school my mom worked in one of the local factories sewing garments until in 1943 the United States Marines allowed women to serve. My mother enlisted and boarded a troop train for basic training in Camp LeJeune, New River, North Carolina where nearly 19,000 women became Marines during World War II. I remember once asking her why she entered the Marines, and she explained that once she saw a poster that said “Free a Marine to Fight” she thought about her brother who was in the Army Air Corp at the time, her father serving in WWI, and she felt she had an obligation to serve, and she knew that what she “had to do.”She recalled seeing her father crying as the trained pulled out of New York City headed south. Mom said later grandpa would later bragged to all who would listen his little girl was a Marine.
Eventually Mom was stationed at MCAS Cherry Point, South Carolina. Cherry Point was authorized by Congress in 1941, with an initial appropriation of $14,990,000 for construction and clearing of an 8,000 acre of swamps, farms and timberland to be a Marine Air Station. There she would meet a young lieutenant who was logging hours in preparation for aerial combat in the Pacific. He pursued her despite her reluctance. Their first few dates consist of him taking to church on Sunday. She would later say that demonstration of sincerity and respect woo’ed her more than any words he uttered. My father maintained it was his dashing good looking, and the fact he was also an Irish Catholic, which fueled the romance. Regardless, they fell in love, married, and eventually settle in his hometown downriver from Detroit. ( I can state unequivocally that my parents service in the Corp served as my inspiration to enlist in the Marines out of high school.)
My parent immersed themselves, like so many of their generation, in an ordinary existence. Together they had nine children that they devoted inordinate amounts of time to feed, house, and raise. No matter what their children were doing my parent were there to support us. But they still found time to host political meeting in the basement to assist candidates running for city offices, They attended meetings of the church they belonged to, and of the Democratic Party where they would serve as precinct delegates, and delegates to the State Convention. They were active in senior citizen initiatives, urban renewal committees, and providing rides to the polls on election day. They never made the headlines but the fabric of society was woven with strands made up of people like my parents and their friends. Life was routine and robust, and they loved what they had.
My father died in 1987, forty two years and seven weeks after marrying the love of his life. My mother never dated or saw other men after my dad died even though she was a young sixty four years old woman. She immersed herself in her children, grandchildren, and later on great grandchildren. She traveled with family to see Ireland the land of her ancestors. And stayed active in her church, and to a lesser degree in politics. My mother was a voracious reader and consumer of news. She new the issues of the day, and never lacked an opinion. She was smart, compassionate, committed, and unwavering in her beliefs.
Up until a couple of years ago my Mom lived independently. Due to health issues she moved in with my older sister. We didn’t want her in a nursing home, and she didn’t want to live in assist living, so accommodations were made. She assists in her care to the extent possible, but meals, medicine, laundry, are all provided by either my sister, or one of several of her children including me.
Six weeks ago my sister, and her husband, left for Mexico. I took my turn for the next two weeks making sure mom was showered with attention. My visit coincided with Valentine Day which allowed me to prepare her favorite meal. During the ensuing fifteen days I prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We played cards, watched endless reruns of NCIS, along with countless hours of cable news shows. These are her favorite activities.
It was during this time while watching the politics of the day unfold she shared her thoughts about the upcoming election. My mom is a Democrat, so she had little to say positive about any of the candidates running for the GOP nomination. She ruminated a bit about how none of them should be allowed to be President. She even shared with me she only twice voted in her life for a republican. When I asked who she said it didn’t matter, they loss. She did sshare it was in a city election, and instantly I knew it was a member of her church who ran for city treasurer but loss to the incumbent both times.
During the time I spent with her she filled out her absentee ballot for the Michigan Presidential Primary. She voted for Hillary Clinton. I asked her why. What followed was a detail reflection of her life. She said being a woman was not the same as being a man. She shared with me the sexism she either encountered or read about in her life. For my mom there was no good answers as to why a woman could not lead this country when countries like England, Canada, India, Germany etc. have. I asked her about the “scandal” that seem to dog Secretary Clinton, she dismissed them with a wave of the hand and said that was a combination of dirty republican tricks along with the good old boy’s club conspiring to prevent the rupturing of the status quo.
Mom continued saying in 2008 she supported Hillary Clinton for the nomination but when she lost to President Obama she happily voted for his election. She told me in hindsight that she didn’t think America would elected an African American in her lifetime. She said watching him take the stage in Grant Park in Chicago the night of his election was emotional for her on several levels among them was the hope that America was moving away from racism, which sadly she concluded it had not, that the disastrous rule of the GOP would be reversed, and that the impossible and improbable were now both possible and probable.
Mom took great delight in casting her vote for a second time for Hillary in a presidential primary. She didn’t think after 2008 she would be around to do so again. Mom shared that she wants to do so again in November 2016, and witness her inauguration in January, “God willing.” She went on to say that Hillary’s life’s work and experience, along with her commitment, intelligence, demeanor, and compassion are assets that would serve the next president well. Finally, mom stated she raised five daughters who she told repeatedly that they could be anything in life they wanted. She said we have women doing the same jobs as men from CEO’s, astronauts, police, firefighters, to politicians. My mother believe now is the time to finally break through and elect an extremely qualified woman to the presidency. I asked her if she has any reservations? She said “no, none.”
So in honor of my mom, and to help realize her dream, and for my country who I sincerely believe would be well served by a Hillary Clinton presidency I sent money in my mother’s name to the campaign.
Not only is it “I’m with her.” I am proud to say “We are with her!”
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