Cindy Jo's Story, October 19, 2018

I realized after my blog post last week that at this rate, it could take many years and years to get through my story.  But I think that's okay.  Maybe I'll speed it up at some point.  Continuing on, my parents were married at the beginning of WWII.  My father served in the Iwo Jima, 5th Marine Division.  The fact that he survived and came back uninjured is a miracle.  He was a medic.  Like most veterans, he never spoke of the war.  He passed away when I was only 15 years old and I wasn't really tuned in yet to what he had been through.  I wish I could ask him questions now.  But more on this later.  My mom got pregnant with my much older brother, John, just before dad was shipped out.  Her mother and my grandmother, Virginia, lived with her during this time.  While my father was away, my mom would show John a picture of dad, point to it and say, "daddy".  When my dad did return and walked through the white gate of the picket fence into the front yard, mom, grandma and John were sitting in the yard.  John was one year old.  He looked up at my dad and said, "daddy".  I can't even imagine the joy my father must have felt at that moment.  Also during this time they were renting a house on the beach in Carlsbad, CA with private beach property.  I'll elaborate on that next week.  I hope you keep reading these posts as I have so much to share!  We all do!

Photo from just after a memorial service for the men killed in Iwo Jima.  This was at Camp Tarawa in Hawaii, June, 1945,