I'm still a loser . . . chesno chesno.
My last post (about 15 minutes ago), was about how I missed two events last week, the commemorating of the death of my mom 10 years ago on the 15th and what would be the 84th birthday of my grandfather on the 22nd.
Now, my grandfather wasn't perfect and I don't know a fraction of the terrible things he did, but to me he was a wonderful grandfather. I'm just sad that all my mother, aunts, and cousins didn't have the same relationship or memories of this man.
Grandpa died (like my mom), while I was overseas. However, unlike my mom, I wasn't in the Ukraine, but in Iraq when he died in October 2004. Seems I'll do anything or go anywhere to avoid a funeral. Have I told you that my paternal grandmother also died while I was overseas in 1995? That can be saved for another blog in June when the all-important 11 year milestone rolls around of that.
Grandpa was a lot of things, but if he was anything good in his life, he was a war hero. My small contribution to the effort in Iraq brought into focus just how much we didn't understand what he went through and had to live with all his life. That doesn't excuse anything he did, but it does bring understanding.
As I missed the funeral and the self-acknowledged "ghoulish" pillaging of grandma and grandpa's home by the family after the funeral, I feel lucky to own one pair of his cufflinks with a Swedish emblem on them, and a tie clip from the city where he rehabilitated after his leg was amputated in 1944. A city a live not 1/2 hour from now. Funny how a little 60 year old hunk of silver can link my past with my future. Whatever it does, it makes me feel a little better to have it.
My last post (about 15 minutes ago), was about how I missed two events last week, the commemorating of the death of my mom 10 years ago on the 15th and what would be the 84th birthday of my grandfather on the 22nd.
Now, my grandfather wasn't perfect and I don't know a fraction of the terrible things he did, but to me he was a wonderful grandfather. I'm just sad that all my mother, aunts, and cousins didn't have the same relationship or memories of this man.
Grandpa died (like my mom), while I was overseas. However, unlike my mom, I wasn't in the Ukraine, but in Iraq when he died in October 2004. Seems I'll do anything or go anywhere to avoid a funeral. Have I told you that my paternal grandmother also died while I was overseas in 1995? That can be saved for another blog in June when the all-important 11 year milestone rolls around of that.
Grandpa was a lot of things, but if he was anything good in his life, he was a war hero. My small contribution to the effort in Iraq brought into focus just how much we didn't understand what he went through and had to live with all his life. That doesn't excuse anything he did, but it does bring understanding.
As I missed the funeral and the self-acknowledged "ghoulish" pillaging of grandma and grandpa's home by the family after the funeral, I feel lucky to own one pair of his cufflinks with a Swedish emblem on them, and a tie clip from the city where he rehabilitated after his leg was amputated in 1944. A city a live not 1/2 hour from now. Funny how a little 60 year old hunk of silver can link my past with my future. Whatever it does, it makes me feel a little better to have it.
2 comments:
I'm a ghoul, mwahaha.
Actually, I still have a Scandinavian baking book for you. Want me to send it?
That would be great. I made yummy Swedish rice pudding tonight. At least I hope it's yummy. It's still in the oven. It is quite the process doing it the real way. Dirtied more dishes than I do making a turkey on turkey day.
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