I’m gonna tell a story. A 23yr old story that I’ve never told before, because it’s a painful and bittersweet moment. My grandfather served in the US Army. He wasn’t a war hero, his time in the military was ordinary... /1 https://twitter.com/jeffreygoldberg/status/1301634784448438272

He was too young for WWII & Korea, so his service was stateside only. His discharge was honorary. My knowledge of his military background is b/c my mom has his service records. He didn’t brag or even really talk much about it. But he served his country... /2

When he died (1997), we didn’t have a formal military service. It wasn’t “him”. But, he was given the honor of a flag draped casket. The funeral director was a family friend. He could’ve taken care of the placement before we entered the church... /3

Instead, they asked my mom (an only child) if she would like to assist, along w/ my younger brother and me. My very shy brother chose to hang back w/ my grandma. My mother & I draped the flag on his casket... /4

I’ll never forget the words my mom said, because they still rip my heart out, even after 23 years.

“Cover Grandpa up. Let’s keep him safe & warm.”

My mom was the same age, on that day, that I am now. Idk how I would’ve done it, in her shoes.

That flag was folded and handed back to us a few hours later.

My grandpa wasn’t a war hero.

But he was MY hero.

He was the standard bearer for the men in my life. He was the father that I needed b/c mine turned out to be a deadbeat.

Crap. I’m getting this out so fast that I forgot to keel numbering these.