2016-2017 Write Eye flip book

and a half, as we have slowly begun to accept our grief. But here I am, putting one foot in front of the other, on this Thursday morning, February 19, 1942. “Jay-mes! Lean-duh! Come down for breakfast!” I hear Sachi yell, her heavy accent evident in almost every word she speaks. “I am almost ready!” Linda replies. “Jay-mes!” “I am coming!” he calls out, rushing down the stairs. I take a glance at the clock. The hands read 7:13. Ugh. I take my time while I finish brushing my teeth, knowing I am still very early for work, and I do not have to be at the hospital until 8:00. My nightmares woke me up early, which isn’t much different from most nights. I get dressed and make my way downstairs so I have time to see my children. Today I choose my usual white, short sleeved dress. When I get to the hospital, I wear a nurse apron, which is white and has a red cross in the front. I also wear a small, cream colored nurse cap. Sachi greets me with a “Good Morning Claire!” as I walk into the bright kitchen. To my right, James and Linda are sitting in front of their usual eggs and toast, courtesy of Sachi.

Gila River Resentment

Caroline Daly

If you had asked me a year ago if I was

happy, my answer would have been

certainly. It is so interesting that in such a short period of time, a whole life can be flipped upside down. I no longer wake up next to my husband, fully content with my life. Now, I wake up in a cold sweat every morning, clawing at the sheets in search of his body to comfort me. December 7th is a day I will never forget. It was the day my husband, Peter, was brutally murdered while serving in the American Navy. He was aboard the USS Arizona, one of the three ships completely demolished by the Japanese bombs. My two children, James, seventeen, and Linda, sixteen, were completely devastated. During the first week, they busied themselves with planning their father’s funeral instead of moping around in pain and misery, like I did. The first few days, I refused to leave my bed. I cried day and night until I became too exhausted and fell asleep. After the third week, I succumbed to my children’s requests to hire a housekeeper. With my busy schedule as a nurse and my bipolar moods, I knew there was no way any of the chores would get done. I hired a wonderful lady named Sachi. Although she is Japanese, my kids and I have come to love her over the past month

“It is alright. I will not be gone forever.”

She is busy cleaning up the countertops as I grab my breakfast from the stove. Wearing her usual apron and dress, her dark hair is tied back in an off-white bonnet. As she finishes with the counter, she places James and Linda’s lunches on top. “Goodbye mother, I will see you later!” James exclaims as he drops his plate

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