My grandfather’s dress green uniform hangs in my father’s closet. My father never spoke of why he had his fathers uniform in the closet. It was always in proper uniform with stripes representining years of of service and years in combat. Combat years represented both Korea and Vietnam. Grand father was a lifer, which represented his death when I was two. He died in the states during the Vietnam War on leave. Grandma had audio tapes which he sent during Vietnam that elloborated his daily experiences on Vietnam and how much he missed her. Grandfather, a mess sergeant focused on the lives of others. My grandmother always spoke of his humor and my father always spoke of that he was the most honest man he has ever met. Why is his uniform in the closet, why are pictures always present in households of his children and grandma. Why do the words not express the actions and the pictures. I have seen a picture of myself and Grandfather, with his hands holding mine up over my head with both of us smiling. What were we reaching for, did we grasp what he was telling us?
This I believe: In Humanity we always hold our arms up high but what are we reacing for? Is it for humanity or is it to compsensate or is it even more simplistic. I reach to my father, my grandmother and mostly to my grandfather to say, “why do you hold my hands high”. The easy part is to ask the question. To answer the question is to grasp truth for ourselves.
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