Skip to main content

Grateful For Innocence

This is my most prized possession. A tiny New Testament given to my Grampie when he landed in England for training. It traveled through WWII with him. He didn't know Jesus at the time, but he read it, marked it up, studied it.

Last time I was home, Grampie told me more about his war experiences than I've ever heard him share. He doesn't like to talk about the war, which I've always understood (in theory). He has a collection of amusing anecdotes from his off-hours, and has shared a few vague generalities, but nothing concrete.

The two brief vignettes he shared were enough to shake me. It hit me, as I looked at the watery eyes of now-fragile man, that he has seen atrocities that would make me vomit. He had to kill or be killed. He saw death, more violently & more frequently than anyone else I know. His choice to be silent and to hold these memories within himself is a decision to protect those he loves. Because once you know something, you cannot un-know it.

Nearly every time we talk, Grampie asks about the boy-situation in my life. If there are none, he reassures me that I have plenty of time, and that I don't need anyone, anyway, since I have Jesus, my father, and his own loving self; he spends time every day on his knees for his family. And that is not an exaggeration. Every day. On his knees.

Ah, just thinking about this is making me teary. My Grampie has the ability to bring tears of love to my eyes faster and more frequently than anyone else in my life.

It is strange and almost impossible for me to imagine him as a young man, gaunt and dirty and living in a trench for weeks on end. Seeing death come to those around him. Sending death to visit others.

It hurts my heart. It makes me wish I could do something, sixty-five years later, to fix him; help him; give him back the innocence I don't even realize I carry with me.




Other Remembrance Day entries:
In Flanders' Fields - in remembring the past, let's not forget the present
A Moment of Silence - we each have our own stories and histories
Remembrance Day - a slightly biased article on why I wear a poppy (Grampie's story)
Labels:

Comments

  1. MLW2:26 PM

    There are tears in my eyes. Thank you for sharing what you share with Grampie.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous10:44 AM

    You also might want to check out this location ... and stay tuned for a copy of the front page of today's Guelph Mercury. http://news.guelphmercury.com/videogallery/719370

    ReplyDelete
  3. Aimee7:13 PM

    Friend, I love you for how much you love your Grampie. And various other reasons...but, at the moment, this reason stands out. I'm still looking into flights to Denver in January...any news on Switzerland? I would love to hug you.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The ROM, The Earth & Procreation

Disclaimer: This post is intended to generate discussion and a sharing of many opinions. It is NOT intended to judge or condemn anyone's life choices. I had an unexpected moment at the ROM last month. C and I were listening to a presentation for kids on wildlife conservation (or rather, I was listening, and C was eagerly anticipating what live animal would come out next), when a statement caught my attention and still hasn't let go. For most of history, the earth could provide enough resources for the earth's human population. But today, our population is growing rapidly, increasing by 250 000 people every day... Forty years from now, it will require 2 Earths to provide sustainably for our survival as a human species. But we only have 1 Earth. 250 000 people. Every day. That is roughly twice the size of my hometown. In one day. So I did a little math. (First, I rounded down to 200 000, just in case the figures were inflated or failed to account for some sort o...
27 comments
Read more

Women And Our Ways: Intro

Last summer, I started writing a blog entry that I never finished. There are several like that, actually. This particular one starts out: If you are male, you probably don't want to read this entry. I mean it. If you were grossed out by my entry on placenta lasagna , didn't understand the problematic tea commercial , or were surprised by my thoughts on the curse of Aunt Irma , this one is bigger, badder, and more bold. I'm going for broke. I've been meaning to write this girls-only series ever since. But then I realized that I want to write a series that may frighten or surprise men, but is not meant to exclude them. Then I thought that maybe I don't want to do that, as it will stir up controversy and I will be misunderstood and I will unintentionally offend both men and women and I will write about things that don't often get talked about. But I think I'm willing to risk it. Titles in the series Women and Our Ways may include: The Mo...
10 comments
Read more

Sunday Starters

I'm not sure if I'm going to keep up with a different 'theme' for blogging every day. Sometimes I like it, and sometimes I hate it. But what I do know is that Sundays are no longer Fundays. (well, in reality, I'm sure they still will be). Instead, I want to do this: I start a sentence, and we all fill it in. However we want. There is only one rule: You have to play the game too. Example: Happiness is... ...a warm puppy ...time with my family ...a myth ...knowing that in the end, he/she's got my back. ...impossible to pin down. This week's starter: When I was six, I thought...
14 comments
Read more