An Introduction to an Introspective Retrospection

I know how it feels to love someone  you've never known. It's a strange feeling indeed. Before leaving my dorm for the weekend, I concluded that it was missing something. What? I had no clue. I really couldn't put my finger on it.  My side of the room is much more simplistically put together than my roommate's cozily stuffed and photograph ridden side. I keep my side as neat and as organized as humanly possible contrary to my past room keeping ideals - which were basically non-existent like many teenagers of any day and age. A visit to grandma's was basically all I needed to figure out what I was missing, or rather what I had always had. With my grandma, aunt, and cousins moving to Nutley, the basement in the Jersey City house is basically a freebie vintage shop. Some finds were some pretty rad retro Huffy bikes, some kick ass and gorgeously tailored leather jackets (that since me being a girl and quite small, fit perfectly on my cousin - you can imagine my jealously. lol), and lo and behold my grandfather's army jacket from the 1940'2  WWII era. I am a total history buff. I'm one of those people who aren't fifty year old dudes with tuffs of white hair but watch the history channel and any specials on CNN or the national geographic. A very obscure past time for a young lady, I know, but back to the story. So you can imagine my ecstatic feeling when face to face with history, and not  just  any history but my history, my grandfather's history - his experiences. 

My grandfather died in the fall of 1990, a couple months after I was born. I miss him although I've never had a single conversation with him to know who he is, or rather was. My grandfather is a man made up soley on beautifully told secondhand accounts - his courageousness in the fall of Bataan as a medic for the United States Army, his easy-going persona as a fireman in his home country & at the firehouse by Romaine Ave., and his devotion to his family. These are all generalizations. I want to know how he felt during the war. I want to hear a detailed description of one of his most frightening and most rewarding moments during that time. I want to know who he was and not how others saw him despite all the wonderful things they have to say. Not all things are wonderful, but the most horrible, heartbreaking and gruesome can be the most beautiful and meaningful. I know that I can "want" all I want. I know I can imagine all I want. But I also know I can put pieces together - piece my present and  my family's present to  our past. I'm going to start with that army jacket that belonged to my grandfather in his youth (no, I was smart enough to know not to take it with me to school and plus it's my cousins since it  fits him to utter perfection - can you say all the honor without the glory?). After the weekend was over I headed back to RU with what I was missing: a reminder. (edit: I did have a photo of a photo of my grandfather up - but it didn't work out right. sorry)

KELCIE.