Thinking Of My Grandfather, I Was Too Young To Really Know Him

I was 13 when my grandfather died. He was a war veteran. There were more veterans there. None of the veterans knew him, they came from the VFW post in Cumberland. He was buried in the cemetery on the hill. My father asked me to go to with him to his apartment. It was really depressing. His wheel chair was there, old books and records. In the book case I found an old telegram, from the war that his brother was missing in action.

I found a folder with a bill for electricity from 1945. A box of magazines. A shoe box with letters from some nurse he met in the Philippines. Another small box with two medals. That was his legacy.

I started thinking of him today, another ant in the war. He was wounded and he had to use a wheel chair. He became a bookkeeper after his discharge. He was born in 1921, wounded in 1944 in the Philippines.

He died from cancer.