Page 61 of Cocky Origins: May and Jerald Cocker

But Hank and I won’t run into one another, I’m afraid. A damn shame. I’m not even sure if he’s shipped off yet. I can picture his face aboard his first aircraft carrier. How happy he must be.

Between you and I, I’m awful proud of him. And the surprise wasn’t too big over here. Hank isn’t one to twiddle his thumbs. It’s not in his blood, nor mine.

Speaking of not twiddling my thumbs, I’ve been thinking about something. Hear me out. When I get back to Georgia, if you’re still my girl like I think you are, I want to make you my wife. Don’t know how you feel about that. But we may as well get to the business of spending our lives together on account of my feelings for you have only grown. The boys here say I’m just homesick, but I don’t know. Do you believe in true love?

Yours,

Jerald Cocker

My Dearest May,

About that marriage proposal. I meant it.

Perhaps you’re reading this letter first. In that case, sift through them until you find the one dated March 15, 1945, where I declared my intentions. Who knows when you’re reading these, but that was the first of the bunch.

I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I figure marriage is a commitment, a decision two people make to go through the highs and lows while holding hands together. It’s about balancing each other out. That’s what it is. Remember when I told you about The Con and The Negative, how The Negative holds an equal value of water in its tank so that if something happens to The Con, then The Negative releases its water so they both stay afloat? That’s what marriage is. Sometimes you’re The Con and sometimes you’re The Negative and the other person switches places and balances you so you can make it through, together, if you’re both willing to do the work.

The best thing the Navy has taught me is thatdiscipline and commitment are a choice that pay off in every way.

Look at me rambling on. Guess I can’t wait to see you.

Yours,

Jerald Cocker

My Dearest May,

Last night I had a dream you were waiting for me under our oak tree, and it was raining everywhere except where you were. The branches shielded you from the torrent, our blanket dry and food abundant. Let’s just say there was a lot more than what we had that day.

You were as pretty as I remember, that smile just for me. You were waving for me to come and join you, but I was stuck in the rain. I woke up with such a hole in my heart that the fellas wondered what was wrong with me. I didn’t tell them about my dream. But you I can tell.

They say the war will be over soon. We’re making loads of progress. I can’t share details, but I can say with confidence that the allied forces are prevailing and we are on the right side of this war.

Five days until April now, which makes it over six months since I’ve seen you. Between you and I, that’s much too long.

Yours,

Jerald Cocker

35

MAY

April 12th, 1945

Sable announces, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they preferred Lily over me!” as we leave school together, homework waiting in the books we hold.

Lily laughs, “They do! Your parents love me!” She waves her hand. “I’m teasing. Of course they don’t prefer me. Sable is only trying to make me feel better.”

“How is your Mother?” Gertie asks. “You don’t talk about her much.”

“She’s dry at the moment. Who knows how long that will last,” Lily mutters. “I’ve told her I don’t want to come home. Since I’m eighteen now, she can’t force me.”

“Has she apologized?”

“Yes, and while I accepted, it doesn’t mean that I have to put myself where I don’t feel safe again.” Glancing to Sable she smiles, silently showing how grateful she is for having a place to stay.

Gertie blurts, “I got a letter from Hank last night!”

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