Today I'm think a lot about the closest man I had to a grandfather growing up. He was my neighbor from the time I was 7 until his death 2 days after my 15th birthday. He was a WWII veteran and former POW. This was the last camp he was held at.

He was captured during the liberation of North Africa, Tunisia. He spent the next 2½ years being sent from camp to camp as the Axis lines contracted back to Germany.

In 6th grade I had to do a report on a WWII veteran and I knew he was a veteran so I asked him if he let me do a report on him. I did not have a clue the story I was in for.

He went on to tell he about his capture on Tunisian D Day. Which confused me until he explained what a D Day actually was. He tearfully told me about the horrors he saw. We talked for hours that evening. It's one of the only reports I ever got a 100% on.

He told me about how he was moved through Italy to Germany and how the Soviets liberated his camp. He said he was unpopular at the VFW over the years, because while he wouldn't support the communists he couldn't being himself to speak I'll if them either.

I only knew him as an old man. An old man that had had time to reflect and come to terms with his past. I knew him as a gentle, loving old man that every kid should be so lucky as to grow up next to.

His own family didn't live near and didn't visit often. His sons seemed distant when they were here, even as a kid I noticed that. I don't know what kind of man he was to them, undoubtedly he had to have had PTSD.

What I do know, is as an old man, I spent my summers chattering his ear off while he and my father drank coffee watching the yards to dig up moles. I spent hours in their back yard eating wine grapes off his trellis while he weeded his flowers.

I mowed his yard for 1 dozen hits wife's chocolate chip cookies per week. I know that as a kid i thought the Ford Ranchero woody he drove was awesome. I know that he was quick with a story while he helped you change the first inner tube on your bike.

Whoever he was following the war, his grandkids are less for not being around him longer. I owe part of who I am to him and to his wife. His story and who I knew him to be has put things into perspective for me now times than I can say. Thinking of you today Mr. C.

#MemorialDay