Happy Birthday to You

Although you have all read my book, how many of you know that today is Grandpa’s birthday?Today he would be 99.

There are so many things I would love to discuss with him. I would love for him to read my book and critique it. As hard as I researched it, I am sure there are mistakes, and there are many holes I would love for him to fill.

I would love to know how he and his siblings felt when they learned they were moving to Russia. Was there a lot of anger and sadness in the house? Where did they get the money for the move, and how long did it take for them to prepare for it?

I am interested in learning about the trip from the memory of an old men about what he recalled of his thoughts as a twelve-year-old boy. Who found the apartment in Leningrad which they shared with another family, and how did they get along with them?

In particular, I am interested in learning about how he felt about his very long journey home alone. I would have been so frightened, particularly going on that trip as a twenty-two-year old. Unlike today, he had no way of communicating with his family, which is an experience that none of you ever experienced.

An example of this is happening as I write this. Kelly and Mark are on their way home from Alabama, where they went to pick up the kids who spent the week in Louisiana with their other grandparents. I was easily able to ask Kelly how the trip has been going via text messages (indirectly my invention).

I learned that they have been discussing the fact that Lily is unhappy with her hair, so the two of them have been trading ideas regarding how to transform her—purple pigtails was their decision! Can you believe a two and five year old are discussing hair styles?

If Grandpa were still here to celebrate this milestone, I would tell him that I finally understand so much of his behavior: why we never moved into a bigger house, why he never wanted to go on exotic trips (but I am glad he did not object to Grandma going on jaunts with her family and friends), and why he was always calling someone to right a wrong, such as complain about the noxious odor emanating from the local chemical plant.

I would tell him how sad I am about what I learned about his childhood, particularly regarding the details of what happened to the three members of his family he lost during the war. I would tell him I am proud about how he was able to get himself home, serve in the Army, and then settle down with Grandma and raise five children.

Whenever I think I can’t do something or think life is too difficult, I think of him. That is what I would tell my dad.

                            

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