My grandfather died 36 years ago today. I really wish I had had the chance to meet him. Based on my mother's stories about him, he's always struck me as an Atticus Finchy man, which is someone I can really see myself liking. He died when he was merely 56; thus turning 56 was a sobering experience for my mother. He died when my mother was only 21; thus turning 21 was a sobering experience for me, imagining the pain of losing my own dad. I remember talking to my mom on the phone on 19 January that year when I was living in France, and I asked her if she misses him. "Every single day," she replied.
Both of my mother's parents are gone now. I can't imagine not having parents.
I'm thinking of you today, Mama.
Thank you, sweetheart. Your Grandpa Carl would have been so proud of you and Russ. He was never able to serve in the military because he had rheumatic fever when he was young, and it damaged his heart. It didn't stop him from serving his country. He led the Okla. campaign to raise money for war bonds, and I have some wonderful articles about him in a scrapbook that will be yours someday. He was a kind and generous man who led by example and who instilled in us his love for our great nation. He was a true patriot. And yes, I still think of him every single day.
Mama
Posted by: Nancy at January 21, 2005 06:00 AM