I’m never quite sure what to do on Memorial Day. Certainly it’s an important holiday and the basic history behind it is well known and each year it seems to pass me by. The older I get the less right this seems.
My grandfather was in WWII. Perhaps if my father or I had been in the military the holiday might hit closer. It’s rare for my grandfather to discuss his time in Europe at this late stage of his life. He’s not one to dwell on the past too much anyway.
Not to say that he complains about the war, but he does leave me with the impression that the media and history books have painted a much different picture about how tough it really was. He’s left me to work out the blanks. I wonder how many other grandsons are in the same boat I’m in. We want to know more about that time in their life to better understand their sacrifices, but at the same time those in the know don’t really want to talk about it.
What I do know is, is that if there hadn’t been a whole generation of men like him the world might be very different today. Some have called his the greatest generation. He’s always seemed great to me.
So on this day I think about my grandfather and all the other grandfathers like him, and the guys who never got a chance to be grandfathers.