adoption, rEunion, reform, reality**
This is Remembrance Day in Canada.
Lest we Forget.
Below is a picture of my father. It was taken in Holland. He was with the Canadian forces who liberated that country. He signed up when he was very young and always used to tell us with great amusement that he had already been in the army for six months when he got drafted. I don’t remember him talking about the war very much but I do remember one of the first stories I ever wrote was about some soldiers sitting around a campfire. He told me that I got it just right. That was exactly what it was like to be a soldier. I was only about ten years old at the time so I doubt very much that I had captured life in the military but it was nice of him to say encouraging things.
He was the one who used to read to me or sing to me to help me fall asleep.
I remember I used to make him all kinds of crazy dishes when I was a kid. Once I made him a pie out of the potato peelings my mother was casting off as she prepared supper. And you know what? He ate it. He had a great sense of humour and I always thought he was pretty smart. When he died in 2009 he was still friends with his best friend from when he was 12 years old. His friend used to come over to our house and he and my Dad would get in laughing fits over the kind of things only best friends find really funny
This is the grandfather my son never really got to know. Guilt and adoption got in the way. It’s too bad because knowing both of them they are a lot alike. My son looked very much like my father when I met him. Almost like his twin. He was about the same age as my father was in this picture.
** For new readers, I am working through the letters in these words as my writing prompts during NaBloPoMo 2011.