My MIL graduated from nursing school in the SF Bay area in 1941, and shortly after enlisted as a nurse in the US Navy. After Pearl Harbor, she was immediately deployed to the South Pacific, where she spent the duration of the war, treating wounded warriors from the Pacific theater. It is quite likely that survivors of the Indianapolis would have been routed to her hospital.
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As far as I know, she never talked about her medical experiences during that time with anyone, including her children. All DW knows is that she was deployed as a Navy nurse in the South Pacific. MIL talked a bit about her off-duty life - time spent on beaches, etc. But the on-duty medical care part of her life was apparently off limits. With time, I realized that her duties involved attending to some of the most gruesome injuries imaginable, and that her barricading off that part of her life was quite logical.
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For the first 20 years of our marriage, my relationship with my MIL was a bit frosty. My attitude toward her softened as I began to understand the trauma that she was carrying, how she had needed to cope with carnage beyond my imagination, how she had walled that off in order to cope with life, and that maybe I should cut her some slack.
Then Alzheimer's struck my FIL. I had previously gone through Alzheimer's with my father, and with our improving relationship my MIL began accepting support from me. At that time, my MIL and FIL were living in Modesto, CA. I was living in Seattle, but working for a company that was headquartered in San Francisco, and I had reason to travel to the Bay Area occasionally. Whenever possible, I managed those trips for Fridays or Mondays, so that I could include a weekend visit to Modesto. My MIL would prepare a punch list of tasks that she wanted me to take care of (e.g., rotating the mattresses on beds or taking care of basic car maintenance activities).
But I also made sure to give her some free time, when she didn't have to worry about managing my FIL. When I could do that, what she wanted most was to simply relax, destress., and, if possble, take a nap.
I remember one time when I was giving her that downtime, and my FIL fell asleep in the bedroom. Meanwhile, my MIL had lain down on the sofa in the living room, with her back to the cushions, trying to rest. I sat on the floor beside her and cupped her hands inside mine. She opened her eyes, and looked into my eyes, giving me a look of affection that I had never before seen from her,
I had been keenly aware that my MIL was disappointed with DW's choice to marry me, but through the years my MIL had softened somewhat. Though she didn't say it in words at that moment, for the first time I knew that she was glad I was her SIL.
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I know this a bunny trail away from the main portion of this thread. The story, though, triggered a response that I wanted to share. And it was therapeutic for me to put those feelings and thoughts in writing.
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