silly unimportant us.

for some reason, for the past few days, i have found myself cleaning my room. it takes days seeing as how i only work from midnight til about three am and since i don't really clean, per say, only throw crap away that i haven't looked at in years. updating my surroundings more so than clean, i guess i'd say.

amongst some unimportant silly letters or drawings from my younger years, there was a letter from my grandpa, my mom's father. i'm not sure why my mom had it, or how it came to be in my room, but it was photocopied and placed in the box with my things. it was addressed to my mom's oldest sibling, and dated "16 September 1944".

now, i don't know about you, but 1944 is forever and a day ago to me. because of this, i thought i'd start to read it. i never knew my grandfather, at least how my mom knew him; he had a stroke before i was born, and was consequently a "stroke victim" of the truest definition until he died, which was before i could ever remember going to the funeral. he couldn't talk, couldn't move his body very well. my grandma fed him, bathed him, took care of him until the end from what i remember being told. because of all of these things, it was like reading a letter from a stranger... yet someone that i know i am tied to through blood. it's an odd feeling to be perfectly honest with you, and thus i thought i'd write about it.

a 61 year old letter from someone i never knew like his family knew him, sitting in my room. photocopied most likely after his death because there is a stapled page with a photocopy of the envelope, the 61 year old envelope with a return address of "CWO N.R. Tylicki/Hq. Repl. Command, USAFFE." 1944 means world war II i realized, a war that i guess i remember from seeing things like saving private ryan. that was wwII, right?

i thought i'd share some of the letter, although i'm not sure it will be interesting to anyone but me. i figure it's my online journal, and should be for my benefit, and if you don't like it, go away.

Dear David:

From somewhere in New Guinea a lonesome father, lonsome for you and your mother, would like to have a talk with his son.

Being here isn't too bad. Up front the boys are really having a rough time, mosquiteos, bullets, bombs, Japs. Some buddies of mine, boys I served with when I first came into the service, are up there now. The news today told of two landings, one on Palau and another north of Halmahera. You probably won't ever hear those names again.

We have all the conveniences of home except hot water, fresh meats, vegtables, and milk. No ice cream for the present, though it is forthcoming. The ingredients have been purchased and now we await the freezing operation. We are located on the very edge of a Pacific ocean beach, so close to the water that sea walls had to be built to prevent the Pacific from reclaiming the beach and washing us out to sea.

The organization I'm serving with is a command of the higher echelon type. The personnel, officer and enlisted, are hand picked and are of a high caliber than the average Army unit. We all would like to do a good job and get the war over thereby getting home to our loved ones with the least practicable delay.

There isn't much that I can do towards making a home for us while I'm down here. Your mother is holding the fort now and making the plans.

As your father it is my duty to rear you, making an honorable citizen, a good Christian, a true example of a man. I will try to avert pitfalls, disappointments, and errors you may make. My shortcomings will not be your shortcomings. Having lived through the stages of life you must weather I can advise you from experience. Each succedding generation attempts to improve the past. That makes for better people and better living. At times you may think us irrational and unfair. You will be required to confide in your parents, especially your Dad, your "buddy". I should like to spend a good share of my leisure moments with you but I know that many times I would "cramp your style". Children often speak of "old fashioned" parents. Let's try to avoid that. We shall be as liberal as good reason allows.

We want you to be as proud of us as we are of you.

Now how about a sincere hand shake to seal the bargain.

Dad.

it's not the whole thing, but it's enough to make me happy. i watched a movie tonight, imaginary heroes i think it was called, and they kept saying noone will remember us, we'll be gone eventually, but these stars will always be there. we look at the same stars generations before us looked at, marvel over the same constellations. it's an interesting thought, i guess.

it's just so odd to take a step back and realize there was so much more than you, there's so many other things that have nothing to do with your life, and that in fact, your life most likely will not matter to people 50 years from now.

depressing kind of, isn't it?