WWI-Grandad's War
Seeds of History
A Dream-Hey sonny boy! Do you know who I am?
I never got the chance to meet my Grandfather Hindman. After he returned home from the Great War, he fell ill, and was committed to the Veteran’s Hospital in West L.A., until his death.
His memory faded over time, and he had great difficulty in recognizing family members, even forgetting that he had children. Today, they would probably diagnose his disease as Alzheimer’s. His sons and daughter’s had great difficulty coping with his loss of memory, particularly my mother, the eldest of five children. To that end, she refused to let her own children be exposed to his mumbling and random outbursts.
One day, I learned from my aunt, that her and mother were going to the VA Hospital. After persistent bugging to go along, I was finally allowed to enter the car, and off we went.
Once in the parking lot however, I was relegated to the backseat, along with my aunt. I strained my eyes out the back window of the old Pontiac, anxiously awaiting my first meeting with my grandfather. Every person that exited the doors, whether they be doctor, nurse or patient, made my eyes bulge. Is that mom? Or is that grandpa!
I would exclaim. It was all my aunt could do, to contain me.
After some time, I saw mom appear next to the car. She was in tears. I strained to overhear the hushed conversation between my mother and my aunt. They brought dad out to one of the bench’s...I told him who I was, but he said he didn’t have a daughter...He pushed me away...
His illness broke her heart. As she informed me many years later, I just couldn’t let you kids see granddad in that way.
Mom got in the car and we drove away. As we rounded a circular drive, something told me to look out the back window. I spotted the figure of a white haired man, dressed in a striped robe, sitting on a wrought iron bench between two tall shrubs. He looked at me as we rounded the curve, raised his hand and waved. I waved back. I immediately screamed out that I had seen grandfather. Mother immediately yelled at me to sit down. That’s not your grandfather!
She yelled, as we sped off from the hospital grounds.
That night I had a dream. I walked towards the gray haired man sitting in the wrought iron bench, but stopped some distance away. The old man spotting me, held up his hand and waved me in his direction. I stopped in front of him and gazed into his eyes. Hey, sonny boy!
He said. Do you know who I am?
Before I could answer, the old man reached down, and picked me up under both arms and lifted me up on his lap. Hey sonny boy!...My name is Sam,
He said.I am your grandfather! Did I ever tell you about my trip to France?