A Letter to my Dad for the WWII Honor Flight

Dear Dad,
     As a kid, I remember you bringing out your "soldier" things once in a while, and seeing your jacket with the Black Panther on it, the K-rations, etc., but a child doesn't really make the connection to the war.  In fact, for many years I didn't ever want to see anything about WWII at all.  It was a period of history I didn't want to know more about.  I never really knew why, because other areas of history I found very interesting.  As an adult, I've thought about that, and maybe it was because it hit "too close to home."  When you talked (infrequently) about being a soldier, it scared me- because even as a child I worried that my Dad could have been killed in that war. (The fact that then I never would have been born did not occur to me!) I didn't ever want to think about that my dad could be gone- that I could be without my wonderful father, the best Dad a kid could have, someone who I loved more than anything in the world.  I couldn't even think about that, so I avoided anything that could remind me of that.  I love you so much, Dad.  I'm so proud of you for all you have accomplished in your life.  The war was a small part of you as a man, but I know how much our experiences shape who we are.  WWII was a big thing in your life.  No one can ever know what you went through, except for you, but I know you were then, and are still, a man who is one of America's best!  You truly are a good man in all the best sense of the word.  I love you more than I could ever put into words, and when I think about you I feel it in my heart.  I am so lucky to have you for a Dad, and I am so lucky to still have you.  You probably don't hear it enough.  I love you, Dad.  I'm so proud of you.  You are my hero!  You had a big part in who I am today, and in all of your children's and grand-children's and great-grand-children's lives, as well.  We all carry a part of who you are with us in who we are.
     I'm so happy that you are getting to go on this Honor Flight to Washington, D.C. to see the WWII monument honoring the sacrifices all of you soldiers made to keep America free.
     I've always been proud of you, Dad. (OK, there was that one time I told you to keep your hat on when you brought the Christmas tree for the Home Ec. Club party so they wouldn't see your receding hair line and I thought you'd look cuter with your hat on, but that was only that one time...!)
     I'm proud of you, Dad, I love you, and I can't ever say enough about how much you mean to me.  I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, etc.
                                                                                       Your loving daughter,
                                                                                        Carol
P.S. Wave to Obama for me.

Attics

In our house today we have an attic above our garage.  In my childhood home there was just an opening in the ceiling to an unfinished attic.  But some neighbors across the street had a huge attic with a floor and steps leading up to it. On rainy days we sometimes were allowed to go up in their attic. We played board games, mostly, and our friends' mom would make popcorn and Koolaid.  I thought she was such a nice mom, and, also, I thought she was beautiful.  Her name was Elaine.  I thought that was a beautiful name, too. I named my Barbie doll Elaine.  Everyone else could have a Barbie, but I had an Elaine.  The neighbors had a trunk in their attic with old clothes that we could rummage through and try on.  We would put on dresses and pretend the Koolaid was tea.  Such fond memories came to an end when we got a bit rambunctious one day (remember we only went up there when it was raining) and started running around, and someone (who shall remain nameless) threw a handful of popcorn at someone else, and pretty soon there was popcorn all over the attic floor and Elaine came up to see what was going on, and we got kicked out. After that we had to find somewhere else to spend our rainy afternoons.