Nest-making

So, tonight Daughter Two is going to make her decision as to which residences to prioritize in the freshman campus housing scramble. There are choices involving type of building, size of room, tradeoffs in amenities such as a lounge or a larger bathroom, number of roommates or suitemates, walking distance to the academic buildings, theme vs non-theme, pet-friendly or not...

It was much easier for me when I first moved out of my parents’ house. When one joins the Navy, the choices of residence become somewhat restricted. In the barracks during training, the choice was basically how close you wanted to be to the head. Trust me when I confide that on Saturday nights when you have the duty and just four hours to sleep before you have to report in, you want to be as far from the head as possible.

Aboard ship, you want to be in a cul-de-sac if you can. On the Long Beach, I racked in the ‘Dirty Dozen,’ which was twelve of the mid-level watch leaders, mostly second- class petty officers, in the farthest corner of the Upper B&M Berthing, as distant from noisy ladders and steamy shower stalls as one could get, and with no through traffic. We valued our sleep and John Denver  and Association tapes and wanted to be as far as possible from the younger guys (yeah, I was all of twenty, so what?) who liked their music metallic and loud. Willy D had a really nice TEAC reel-to-reel and a good set of speakers, and we saved it for times when the noisiest youngsters were out of the compartment. We wanted to actually listen to our music. Refined tastes, doncha know.

I used to assign myself to the mid-watch, midnight to 0400 and then the forenoon watch, 0800 to noon.  People thought I was crazy – as the keeper of the Watch, Quarter and Station Bill for the seventy guys in B Division, I could have assigned myself to any watch rotation I wanted.  Most guys in my position would have taken a 4-on, 8-off set with one of the 8-offs being at night. But not me.

The thing is, I loved midwatch. I’d get a mid-rats snack at 2300, then stand my watch in the propulsion plant, getting off at 0400. I’d catch a quick shower (after four hours in a steam plant, one takes on a glow, so to speak) and head up to the mess decks for an early breakfast. Full and clean, I’d hit the rail in time to watch the sun rise out of the depths, then head down to my rack to read or to the cranny behind the blast screen for the #2 Terrier missile  launcher to play guitar and sing some songs without kibitzers. 0730 would see me back in the plant “getting the picture” for my forenoon watch.

I’d usually do my work maintaining equipment or teach onboard firefighting for a couple of hours after watch, then hit my rack for uninterrupted sleep until time to start the cycle over again. It was my underway routine, into which I settled comfortably over time. I got to the point that I could roll over and sit up abruptly just as the Messenger Of The Watch was about to shake me awake, scaring the bejeesus out of more than one Fireman Apprentice.

After all these years, although I’ve forgotten most of the faces and names, my personal routine remains etched in my mind. It was a routine that I defined for myself for the first time in my life. Other than being on time for watch and keeping up with my work, my schedule was my own and I made it just that – my own.

I never had the university experience. Neither did Mary. Daughter One is a senior at university but close enough to home to lean on us occasionally (and us on her, if we’re honest). Each year, she’s changed from dorm to apartment to house and each year, she’s had to re-set her routine so that it served her, rather than the other way around.

But Daughter Two will be across the country and will not have the option of coming home to decompress some weekends. As was the case for me aboard ship, she’ll have to define and settle into a living routine that works for her on the long haul. She may struggle at first, but it will come. By the time she’s there a month, the university will have become her new ‘here.’  Our home will become one of many ‘theres.’

And I suppose that’s the way it should be.