Never Ever Dull
With every conversation, I always seem to end with "Never a dull moment"....our lives are rich, complex, and beautiful stories. Join me in laughing about everyday things and appreciating life-bumpy roads and all.
I knew exactly where to find the binder, stored on a closet shelf and mixed in with my stacks of memory boxes and scrapbooks. I reach for the slender blue binder and pull it down. My eyes immediately sting with tears as I see the words "My Recollections" and his sprawling signature: Alec P. Flowers.
My dad's thoughts and words about his life. Years before he died, he took the time to record on paper things he wanted his children and grandchildren to know-things that didn't come up in our daily conversations but the events that chiseled character and molded him into the man he became. I settle down with my faithful furry friend, Banks, and flip to the part I needed to read, the part about his role in WWII. The font size for this section is much smaller. I sense the hesitancy as he finally got on paper words that had been tucked away. The war opened his youthful eyes to all things horrible but those memories remained shut down until he decided to share what happened in his time in Europe. I remember the dagger and other weapons displayed in our home. Not much was ever stated about them. Guests would ask and we'd share that my father had returned home with them. We knew he had enlisted, gone to Europe towards the end of WWII, and collected weapons in all the houses he raided. One even has a special swastika noting a particular soldier's honor in Hitler's regime. But my dad didn't sit around and tell stories about his work on the other side of the Atlantic. I understand about this portion of his life from the binder. I read carefully with Banks nuzzling closer. My dad was shipped to La Havre, France...then to Paris. He was with the 36th Infantry Division and rounded up Nazis and SS. Later, he moved into Austria and Germany. He took refugees back to Poland, Russia, and the countries that they had been snatched away from. He was stationed in Augsburg, Ulm, Numberg, Hrilbronn, Wurzburg, and Bremerhaven. He says he "saw devastation" but doesn't elaborate. Although his words don't ramble with specifics, I'm now able to fill in the blanks. I spent this week reading a historical fiction by Kristin Hannah, The Nightingale. It's a heart-pounding, gut-wrenching novel that transports the reader close to Paris as the Nazis take over and carries you through to the time when my dad would have arrived in Paris. I felt overwhelming sorrow and despair but also the resilience and determination through the book's two main characters. I couldn't put it down but had to skim at times because my tender heart couldn't handle the horrors of what occurred during that awful period in history. I hold "My Recollections" in my lap and stare at that tiny font. Tears come. I now have a glimpse of what he saw and heard and the fears and tension he encountered. I can now fill in the blanks. http://www.amazon.com/The-Nightingale-Kristin-Hannah/dp/0312577222
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AuthorFun-loving mom to 4 kids and 1 big puppy. Fifth grade teacher of amazing little people who have never ending things to share with me. Love to discuss Jesus, diy projects, and life. Trying to keep it simple: Love Jesus, love people. Archives
December 2021
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