Monday, March 20, 2006
So my grandpa has bone cancer. He's had it for a few years now but it's been in remission. It's back now. He's old and is prolly going to die soon. He taught me how to ride a bike and gave me my first ten speed. He was in WWII. Fought in the Pacific. He told me some stories about going down holes and flushing Japs out so that his comrades could pop em'. That's hardcore. After the war he understandably got a drinking problem. He recovered and became one heck of a nice grandpa. I don't know what else to say. He's good and I don't want to write him off but he is old and will pass sooner rather then later. I will miss him quite a bit and wish that I had spent more time talking with him about his experiences. It was a different time and it's history is passing away every day. You can read all you want about it but talking with a real person who was really there is better. I don't need to explain why. I have to go to work now.
hey at least you got to know yours. both of my grandfathers committed suicide in the 1950s.
yeah, that WWII shit really was a different time. i try to talk to those old cats whenever i run across them and i'm constantly digging up shit from back then. you're right, talking to live people about the wartime is nothing like reading about it. holding something in your hand like a ration book is also pretty powerful. most people around now have never seen shit like that.
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hey at least you got to know yours. both of my grandfathers committed suicide in the 1950s.
yeah, that WWII shit really was a different time. i try to talk to those old cats whenever i run across them and i'm constantly digging up shit from back then. you're right, talking to live people about the wartime is nothing like reading about it. holding something in your hand like a ration book is also pretty powerful. most people around now have never seen shit like that.
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