The Tribute of Tender Hearts

With gracious words Katherine explained carefully, and with feeling, that the pin was the rating badge of the rank her husband had been – Radioman First Class, United States Navy.

It was in that moment, from her manner and tone, as were Jake himself there with us.

The day had been a warm one, and I had just arrived home from work. Caroline kissed me, handed me an icy Ginger Ale and suggested I relax a bit on the back porch, and I wondered what was afoot. It was a Thursday evening in the fall of 1960. Our daughters both had dates with a couple of fellows the next evening and both homes were all a twitter with excitement. They were no longer little girls, but blossoming young ladies, and even a casual observation confirmed that. I had come to treat the two of them about equal, both as my own daughters, and relationships were good, I think. Parents everywhere seemed to be experiencing all kinds of problems with their children, but such seemed to pass us by.

Moments later she appeared, Jake's daughter, just as pretty as her mother had always been, and like her mother, carrying more top hamper than most girls, and doing it very modestly and with class. She was a darling of the first magnitude, and we were very close.

She was trying hard to be a grown up young lady, but was a little anxious, I thought, probably about her date. I was right, as it turned out. Our conversation soon took a turn that showed me what was on her mind. She paused a moment, and I sensed the wheels turning in her head. I could wait, and let her work out what she wanted to say.

"Uncle Charlie," she began hesitantly and with a timid, trusting voice, "would you tell me some more about...."

Her throat caught and she was silent, but I knew now where her thoughts were. The girls had often related the stories of the fun we had together that fall and winter we were all together in Hawaii, the cook-outs, the beach excursions and swimming in the surf, hiking in the hills above Honolulu, laughing and enjoying life. Her mother had more than once told her about how tender and sweet and kind her father had always been with her, and how he inspired her to always be her very best for him, because he was good and generous and loving. I knew she was thinking about her father, and what her mother had said about him, and was that really true? The unspoken question, I thought I could perceive it in her tender heart, was whether another man like her mother's sweetheart might be out there somewhere for her.

"...tell me something more... about... my father?"

Sometimes, in her deepest feelings, this sensitive girl was as vulnerable and innocent and hopeful as her mother back when Jake first met her that evening on Waikiki.

So I told her what I had never told anyone before, about that evening when he and her mother had walked on the pier together... how it had changed Jake forever. He almost couldn't wait to tell me about her that night after our watch, sitting on the seawall, about the girl that had turned his world upside down, how sweet and reserved she was with him, and how they had walked on the beach together that evening, and how she inspired him to be the very best person he could be.

We were quiet for a long moment, and their daughter was lost in her thoughts, little tears of emotion twinkling in her pretty eyes.

"Yes," I offered after a time, and with conviction, "he is out there somewhere. Don't be anxious, and don't hurry things along too much. He'll find you one day. When he does, he'll treat you like your dad treated your mother... and then, you won't have to ask anybody, you'll know in your heart that he's the one.

"Your dad would be very pleased to see you growing up so beautifully, just like his sweetheart. He would want me to let you know, too, that... that he loves you very much."

We had heard the chimes softly in the background calling us to dinner, and I had said about all I could muster without my own emotions overwhelming me.

She rose demurely, with a grace and dignity far beyond her few years, paused a second and said, "Thank you very much for telling me that." She wasn't quite sure how to conclude things, but as I stood, she stepped into my arms for a hug. It was then I noticed the little eagle-and-three-chevrons pin on the collar of her blouse.

It was that brief exchange that afternoon that has motivated me to write their story. Jake would be just as pleased now with his Kit as he was then long ago in Hawaii, and very much so, too, with the darling young lady who is their daughter.

He and his Kit had had only those few months together.

xxx