How Did We Get Here...

In the 1990's when my girls were little,  I would bring them to dinner at my parent's house several nights a week.  After dinner, the girls would play upstairs with Grandma and I would sit with my dad next to his computer.  When he retired, he bought a computer and was completely fascinated by it.  He'd always have a list of questions for me and show me proudly what he had done during the day.

Often our conversation would drift away from the computer. 

He would talk about his mom and remember that as a little boy he'd slip out of bed to listen to her play the piano and sing. She died before I was born, but I got to know and love her from my father's story and the look on his face when he talked about her.

One the time he came home from school (little brother in tow) crying because he thought he had swallowed his tongue.  His brother, Charlie, cried in solidarity.  I could hear the love when he talked about his mother and there would sometimes be a tear.  I could hear the love and sadness when he talked about Charlie.

Or how at the age of 80-something, he didn't feel any different than he did when he was 12.

Dad rarely talked about his father, but when he did I could tell their relationship was distant.  He told me once that he thought he would have been a disappointment to his father, but Dad didn't care because he was happy.

It was about this time when my father was persuaded to write down what happened to him during World War II.   It was always hard for me to picture my father as a soldier, however while he was working on this, it would be on his mind and he'd talk about it some.  When I read his final product, I realized that he left out some details.

When the Germans found my dad hidden at the Titron's house, they locked him alone in a room and told him he was going to be shot in the morning.  He sat there all night thinking about this.

His story of the evacuation and boat ride had one more detail that he left out.  The men were tossed into the boat and the men at the bottom were crushed. 

To me, this excerpt explains why he left it out.  I am sure other stories are lost as well.

"For a long time, several years, I tried not to think of this experience.  If I thought of it, I felt the despair of that moment.  I didn’t know how long I would be down there or where I was going.  The guards pushed so hard at the start, I was lucky to hang on to the ladder.  The climb down was easier, I had nothing to carry."