NoJoMo 11 – Rememberance

I know I write quite a bit about Honor Flight and Veterans, which is fitting for today.

But today is also a day of Remembrance.

I wish I knew more about my grandfather. What he did in WW II and Korea, and what he did after. I know a little bit here and there. I know he was in the Army, then discharged and re-enlisted the same day into the Army Air Corp – and years later the same thing happened when he was discharged from the Air Corp and hours later re-enlisted in the Air Force.

He did photo reconnaissance in Europe during WW II. That is where my knowledge ends. I know he sort of got in trouble for taking pictures of important American Leaders (who shall remain nameless – but I’ve seen the photos!) who went overseas to see the troops and be part of the planing when according to official paperwork they were “elsewhere.”

I have no idea what he did during Korea.

I know when he retired from the military he work to work for a technology company. I don’t even know the name of it. But my mother would tell me of the black vans showing up and grandpa being gone for months. I know he worked on the photography systems used in satellites – one of his projects was declassified, partially – I know it was early satellites.

My mother also recalls early on in the space program watching one of the first rockets ready to launch, and blow up on the pad – and my grandfather who loved of all this just hung his head and said “there goes six years of work” – but he never said on what.

There is so much I do not know about my grandfather’s life before – but I know how he affected my life. I do remember the smell of peppermint on his breath. Him calling me “sis” – and me being jealous when the other girls were born and I wasn’t the only one any more. I remember sharing books and the love of the outdoors. Photography and birdwatching and quiet. I remember star gazing and old western movies.

I remember what loved looked like – and it was the way he looked at all of us. his children and grandchildren.

If I even doubt at any point in my life that I was loved, I just have to stop and think of his smile, and I can feel the warmth of it again.

He’s been gone for ten years now. The wounds still ache and I miss him more than words can say. But I remember him every day. I talk to him every day, and I can still hear his voice in my memory.