This Memorial Day, we remember my maternal grandfather, John Niespodzany, who served as a cook in the Army in WWII.
My uncle Mike (his son) gave me his military records last year.
It was good to know how he served our country. He had Alzheimers and his later years he told me he flew planes in the war. (According to a co-worker who knows a lot about WWII, it's possible he could have loaded planes with supplies.)
Here he is with my grandma.
My last conversation with Grandpa before he died was about the war. While I knew his story wasn't true (he wasn't at the bombing of Pearl Harbor), it was real to him, and I listened quietly. Even though he couldn't remember what his service was, it was clear he was still proud of serving his country.
Rest in peace, Grandpa. And thank you for your service and honor.