Monday, December 9, 2013

My Grandpa, The Untold Stories, Never to Be Told

My grandpa, the same man that I spoke of in my last post left us on November 2nd.  I have been missing from pretty much all of my social network sites and have been taking time to recover.  I have been missing for about a month, not that anyone has really realized it, but I feel that I should explain what is going on in my life so when I come back in years, I can see that I have documented it to some extent.

My grandpa's funeral was very busy, a lot of cooking and cleaning.  There was a lot of people who came to show their respects and cried, many of whom I have never met before.  It was so nice to see all these Hmong veterans that walked the land with my grandpa, those whom fought next to him.

They called my grandpa a captain, he received an American flag which was laid on top of his coffin.  It was beautiful.  They played the trumpet and saluted him.  My mom saluted him as well, I felt like she was so hurt, so crushed that she wasn't there for his last breath, she blamed herself for everything.  I didn't understand why, she is the only person that was there for him for everything. 

I was in charge of his slideshow.  It was difficult to find pictures of him.  It was more of a slideshow showing his children and grandchildren, but then again it wasn't even of everyone.  I was restricted, leaving out his children and grandchildren whom still live in Laos and Thailand in case of any danger.  It was a beautiful slideshow, I had my grandma say some words in the beginning and at the end.  I found songs and had my older sister help me seek more songs to add to the slideshow.  The pictures that I found of my grandpa were of him when he was still able to walk and talk, he was so lively and when I say lively, I mean stubborn lol.  It was about 23 minutes long, which wasn't long enough for my grandma.  

I learned and realized so many things about my grandpa at his funeral.  He was a captain, he was a prisoner for two years in which he was tortured.  He was respected to not only the soldiers but to our people.  He risked his life for Americans and our own people. 

I wish that I saw his significance beforehand.  I knew he was my grandpa, that he told great stories, that he was a soldier in the war, but I didn't know the details or his reasons.  I knew a lot of his bad, but I did not know much of his good. 

All the stories that he never told us will never be told because he is no more.  I am so heartbroken because I didn't care enough to ask when he was able to speak.  I never cared to listen when I had the chance.  I kick myself as so many of my family and relatives do, but then I realize that he is in a better place because he is no longer in pain.  He has suffered for so long, now he can rest. 

I was there for him when he needed me, translating him, feeding him, and visiting him whether there were others or not.  I did as much as I could at the time.  Life is so busy. 

I miss him so much.

RIP Grandpa. May God be with you!

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