Remembrance Day Memories

“What did poppi do in the war, mom?” This was the question my 24 year old daughter asked me this morning. She is on her way to a school assembly with a teacher friend of hers. It’s Remembrance Day in Canada and she realized she didn’t know very much about her own grandfather. He’s my father! And, quite frankly…I don’t know much either!

My father, Sidney David fought in the Second World War. I know this because there are pictures of him as a soldier. I used to hear how during my parent’s courtship, my father was overseas. Those were hard times. My mother would tell me how being separated from him was challenging, and, patriotism in the United States made complaining unfashionable. Both my parents loved being American, and, serving in the US army during W.W. II was an honour.

There are pictures taken from an airplane flying above Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped over the city. I remember seeing those pictures and wondering how that was even possible. I remember my dad casually telling me how he was sent into Hiroshima to help ‘clean up’. I can’t even imagine what that meant. And I never thought to ask.

The only other reference to dad’s army involvement came in the form of an on-going family joke. During our dinners, whenever someone was asked to “pass the salt”, or “Can I have some more carrots?”, it was expected that we would pass it directly on. If one of us served our self before we passed on the requested item, my father would tell us “If you were in the army, you’d be peeling potatoes for a full day!”  With furrowed brows and cynical smiles, inevitably, we all laughed!

I never had those deep conversations with my dad! I never knew about his experiences. He never offered to share. I never asked. I wish I did. I wish I could ask him now. Those stories are lost. There is no one who can tell me about them. Those are my father’s stories, and, like him, they’re gone.

So I persevere to tell my stories to my children. They don’t ask, and sometimes I think they’re not even interested. But I do it anyway, because I know that one day, they’re going to want to know. And I want them to know me! I wish I knew my daddy better!

So that I had more to remember...