WE ARE: 5 women navigating our twenties in search of peace, happiness and love (or not). WE WRITE: about everything and nothing. From the insane to the mundane- you will find different paths taken, lessons learned and lives lived. WE THINK: you’ll enjoy it...Warning: Consumption of these views may leave you enlightened while intoxicated.


The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A Greater Appreciation

My grandfather served in World War II. When he came home he attended Hampton Institute (still the real HU), married my grandmother (a nurse) and had three sons. My grandfather purchased a home in Hampton that he remodeled himself and provided for his family while working at Fort Monroe.

I realize now that there was so much I did not know about my grandfather who passed away in 2003. I don’t recall having conversations with him about what it was like being a black man serving in the war. I never asked him how he felt protecting a country that denied his youngest son (my father) access to the nearest bathroom because they were black. I never asked him what it was like being raised in Fort Worth, Texas and not be discouraged by the racism that was rampant. But I do know that my Granddaddy was a man of faith.

I say all of this because sometimes I regret my youthful understanding of things. Often times in the moment, appreciation takes a backseat to the trivial. One summer when I was about 12, my Grandfather took me over to Fort Monroe and showed me some of his world. The model ships, the bombs, the history lesson, the photographs of young men now old. My grandfather, a carpenter, showed me this world of war and then led me down the halls of wood that he worked to preserve with his own hands. When showing me around a man overheard my Grandfather’s voice and was left in awe at his story. The man asked me, a child who did not know better, if I was proud of my Grandfather. I said I was, but at the time, in my heart, I didn’t care. I would have rather been anywhere else then at some old fort on a hot summer day.

But look what I carry in my memory. I have no idea what else was more important than spending a summer day with Granddaddy. I have been taught to understand that time is both limited and fleeting. I have learned to appreciate the man who loved my grandmother through cancer, taught his sons to be men in a segregated South, and prayed for me when I had no idea what it took for him to be there for all of us.

This is just part of my Grandfather’s story-a veteran who served his country, community and family. As I enjoy a day off today, these are the words of a granddaughter who is grateful that she is finally able to appreciate a great man who fought. A man I am proud of. I man who I had the honor to call my Granddaddy.

I encourage ya'll to take a moment to think of those who have and currently serve in wars they may or may not believe in.

See You In Seven

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