My grandmother, Nanny, just turned 92 a week ago. She is getting along although her words are slipping and she's trying various walkers to help her get around. She is a grand Lady. She served in the British anti-aircraft gunnery units as the commander in London during the Blitz in World War II. She went on to serve as a civil servant for the Canadian Government for over 40 years. She was the best secretary there was, top officials fought over who would have her work for them.
My Grandfather, Grumpy, will be I believe 87 in the fall. He has served with the Canadian Army's UN Peacekeeping core, traveling to places such as Burma, and India, the Middle East and the South Pacific. Such tales he could tell of his adventures.
Yet in all 33 years I've know them I've barely heard the stories. I guess they don't like talking about the war and the missions after.
I have this strangling feeling that I'm going to lose a piece of something forever in not that much longer and I don't know how to get that piece of something. I'm running out of time. I want to know it all. But it's painful to recollect and I've waited too long.
Some things ought not be forgotten
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