THREAD: My 92-year-old mom was talking in her sleep last night: "Charles, where's Rose?" she asked. Charles was her brother who, after Pearl Harbor, claimed he was 18 so he could enlist--as his mom, my grandmother refused to agree. He trained in Washington state. 1/
2/ My grandmother hitchhiked there from Michigan for Christmas b/c "my boy's not going to spend Christmas alone." He was Army, infintry, originally, but after discovering his superior swimming skills he became a Ranger.
3/ He earned a Silver Star for volunteering to swim ashore ahead of the landing at Anzio to mark the landing site. He succeeded and survived, only months later to be killed by shrapnel while eating with his unit outside. My grandmother refused to believe he died for years,
4/ "When Charles gets home," she would say. My mom was about 15 at the time & her mom stopped "momming," from the loss. And my mom, obviously from last night's dream, still thinks of her brother often.
5/5 That is all. Now, have yourself a wonderful three-day weekend, everyone!
Post-Twitter: My mom always took comfort in knowing Charles, who survived a day or so, received last rites before he died. So thank you to all the priests in service too.
Rose was my mom's older sister, whom she adored and who basically took care of my mom growing up after her dad (then a stay-at-home dad--lost job in depression) died...she was also my favorite aunt. My mom's the last of the sibblings alive.
Here's the text my brother sent this morning. After my father died a year and a half ago, he moved mom in with his family and cares for her--she has very severe dementia.....My brother is beyond amazing! 
Actually, he moved them both in as my dad was dying of cancer, so he cared for both of them--a better son one could not ask for.
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