Wartime Wedding

Once upon a time, back in March 1944, I was rather suddenly, to be married on 10 days notice. It was wartime. My navy husband-to-be was between assignments and uncertain of his next orders – so – no time for that big church wedding, or any bridal showers. No time to send out invitations or gather bridesmaids.

My only sister was with her husband and baby at an Air Force base in Florida with no way to get home in time (civilians couldn’t fly). One brother was in the army in Europe, but the other was in midshipman school in upstate N.Y., so he was able to get a 24 hour leave from midnight Saturday to midnight Sunday.

Thus we were married at 5pm, Sunday, at home. Mother insisted I wear a proper wedding dress which was hastily bought along with my “trousseau” which included 2 new dresses, a “going away” suit and, wonder-of-wonders, a new pair of navy shoes, thanks to a coupon from my mom (shoes, of course, were rationed)! A clever florist transformed our living room to resemble a chapel. My best friend took the train from Boston to be my only attendant (wore a bridesmaid dress from another wedding).

There was a caterer and good friends came to wish us well and share our joy. It was a wonderful wedding. It was magic and it was mine!

Jeanie Henry
©2011
Southbury, CT

I Love November

I love November. Many people don’t. If you live in New England, as I do, it can be cold and raw and a bit bleak, but the light has a different quality to it – there seems to be so much more of it. We don’t live in wide open spaces and the trees tend to confine us. To be sure, we need their shade in the hot summer months and we treasure the usual October brilliance, but once the leaves fall, the trees become distinct again; the woods are open to the sky. The whole world seems to expand. Sunsets tend to be dramatic – the air itself turns golden.

I feel nostalgic and more alive. Summers can make me tired – the heat is enervating but the fall revives me and never disappoints.

This is not a story – tho’ November brings abundant memories. Those from college years include football games and tail-gaiting; trolley rides from New Haven to the Yale Bowl; Thanksgiving treats and turkeys; families and friends gathered together and all of us always thankful beyond any words for our many, manifold blessings.

Jeanie Henry
©2011
Southbury, CT

December Memories

December brings myriad memories; trees and toys; scents and stockings; pretty clothes and parties; churches and carols; families and fun – and a special day just for me – my birthday! People said “Oh dear”, “too bad”, “it must be hard” and “so close to Christmas” (it’s the week before) but I loved it! School was out; vacation started; houses were decorated; lights were lit; everything felt festive. As for presents, I fared better than most – “poor child – we should give her something special – sort of 2 in 1 if you will”. Christmas was – and is - pure magic, and somehow I felt I was part of it.

One year my beloved, revered older brother invited me to a midnight service at a nearby church. We walked along the snowy streets and when we arrived I found he had surprised me – the service was mostly carols – the dear, old, familiar hymns (not Rudolph or Rock) and mostly sung by the congregation (not the choir) – best of all – he had researched it and knew how I would love it – just another gift but so special.

My sister had to have a birthday in September! School was starting; vacation was over – no fancy fun times for her. I felt sorry for friends who celebrated their day in the hot, hazy days of summer.

December birthdays are the best! How lucky am I to have one.

Jeanie Henry
Southbury, CT 2011

My Non-Job

In the Spring of 1942, I was finishing up my 3rd year of college. Pearl Harbor had taken place; the country was at was; most of the boys I knew were in uniform including my 2 brothers. Several of my friends had left college and had no plans to return.

I was an adequate student, but no scholar and my future dreams included hopes for a husband and children. Most women didn’t hold executive positions then and I had no need for a degree – in fact I felt guilty sitting at a college when so many people were involved in the war effort, so I phoned my mother to state my case. After thanking my parents for all their support etc., I explained that I wanted to quit – to leave college and get a job and do something useful. My mother never flinched – “Well” she said, “You come on home, but you shouldn’t have a job because you don’t need one. Others do, and it would be wrong for you to take one.” “However,” she added, “I have just been put in charge of recruiting Red Cross Nurses’ Aides for the Borough of Brooklyn – you can be my first recruit!” – So – I took the course, donned my uniform, and proudly earned my cap and went to work. I treated my volunteer job as a paid one and went to the hospital 5 full days a week. I tried to do the dirtiest work – like scrubbing bed-pans and u favorite floor, to be sent to, was the neuro-surgical one. The head nurse there was a tyrant, but I held her in great esteem and she taught me much. It was a wonderful, life-changing experience which I relished. After I was married 2 years later, we moved to Connecticut and I continued doing hospital volunteer work when possible for the next 30 years.

P.S. Subsequently, I learned about a new program in New Haven called “Hospice”, and I got involved with that. For my 80th birthday a friend gave a luncheon; each guest was asked to bring a card and a donation to “Jeanie’s favorite charity”. Hospice was delighted and so was I, - a fitting finale to a career for a girl with a non-job.

Jeanie Henry
©2012
Southbury, CT

Lost and Found

When I graduated from high school, my mother gave me a beautiful ring – a ruby set in diamonds. I was thrilled! Not only was it a complete surprise, but I treasured it even more when I learned its history – it was old, and had been given to my mother’s mother by her husband when she was born. As I am named for my mom, she chose to pass it down to me. I was ecstatic and took it to college the following fall.
Later that winter, I was invited on a ski weekend with friends – never mind that I couldn’t ski – nor that it snowed so hard on our trip north that we had to make an unplanned stop at a small country inn – nor that I had my ring with me as I didn’t want to leave it in my room at college – (a smarter girl would have found a safe) – but – you guessed it – when I returned to my dorm and unpacked I went into a panic – there was no ring anywhere – not in any pocket, not in my purse; not in my suitcase – everything was turned upside down and inside out to no avail.
I called my friends; I phoned the Inn – but – I didn’t dare call my mother. I knew she would be heart broken – as I was – and worse, she would be ashamed of me.
A day or so later, I needed to wash my hair and after giving it a good scrub I picked up my brush and comb to give them the same treatment. As I ran the comb thru the bristles of the brush to remove excess hairs out popped my ring!! Ecstasy!! Apparently I had removed the ring and placed it on the bureau; then set my brush down on top of it without noticing. The ring became embedded in the bristles and stayed there for several days even when I used the brush.
I can’t recall any time since that I have felt such relief or such joy. It was truly a miracle – and surely a lesson to remember.

Jeanie Henry
©2012
Southbury, CT

At The Opera

Back when I was a teen-ager an elderly bachelor cousin invited me to attend the opera with him one afternoon. As we weren’t especially close, I was a bit surprised, but my mother thought it would be a nice thing to do, and I was free, so off we went. Upon our arrival at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, we found our seats and I prepared to sink back and enjoy the music. First, however, I got out my comb to attend to the long, blonde, curly hair which I had at the time. After sufficient primping, I put the comb back in my purse. As the lights dimmed my cousin leaned over and said these words – which I have never forgotten, even 70 years later –

“And did you remember to bring your toothbrush also?”

Jeanie Henry
©2012
Southbury, CT

Pride

We’re supposed to write about ourselves – right? So – recently I was trying to decide on a topic while I was reading one of those “discover yourself” magazines. I came across this sentence “What are you most proud of ?” well - that got me thinking. Surely I’m proud of something --— of course I’m enormously proud of my children and of any input I might have provided but let’s face it - what important thing have I done?

-I never wrote a book – or painted a work of art I never ran a marathon or climbed an alp-I was not a famous CEO - in fact I could go on for pages about what I didn’t do –but so could we all. I’m not trying to belittle myself and I think I have a reasonable amount of self-confidence – but what have I done that I am most proud of?? This subject has taken much thought—in fact I almost gave up but that felt like quitting. This was a challenge – so I pursued it.
First, I determined that the word “proud” was a stumbling block. It had definite negative overtones – like conceit, self-righteousness etc. maybe “pleased” was better. Looking back I can say I am pleased with all the volunteer work I was able to do - in the hospital, in the community, in our church [where I sang in the choir for 56 years] and primarily in our home where I cared for my family in many ways for many years. Of course I made mistakes but hope I have learned from them and put them behind me.——I am far more content now at 91 than I was at 40 and also more grateful.

They say that “pride goeth before a fall”. I’m not positive just what that means but in any event – I am still standing.

Jeanie Henry
©2012
Southbury, CT