War

Went to see Miracle at St. Anna's tonight in Brampton with some friends. It was really good. I'm not normally one for war movies as they usually affect me for days afterwards and I don't do well with too much blood and whatnot. And while this movie was very violent, the story made up for it. World War II seems like another world, but my own Grandpa fought in it. He lied about his age, enlisted at 17 and was a gunrunner. He came back with no teeth after a crash landing and two dead friends. We were discussing on the ride home how back then there was no such thing as post-traumatic stress. You just lived with it. But then I think back to stories about my Dad's childhood - the abuse, both mental and physical. My Grandpa took out his PTSD on his five kids, as I'm sure many other soldiers did. I can't imagine living in that era.

Anyway. I wish I had taken more time to talk to my Grandpa about his "other life", as he put it. By the time he had grandkids he had mellowed quite a bit, so I never really knew the violent part of him. Not much that I can remember, anyway. But the older I get the more interested I am in my family history. He died a few weeks before I turned 22 and I wish he had been around longer for me to get to know him better. When I was 22 I was so wrapped up in myself I really had no concept of any history besides my own. Almost four years later I'd like to get out a tape recorder and have him tell me stories from his youth. It makes me sad to know that the person that essentially gave me life left so little behind.