My late Grandfather was a Veteran. I didn't know anything about that until after he passed away. He was a Sergent in the Korean War. I had never even known that he had been in the Armed Services, let alone lead fellow Armed Soldiers during a War. My Grandfather passed away in June 1999. I remember sitting in the corner at his wake (I had strep throat and a 103 fever) noticed these two older men come in the room. They were dressed in Unforms. Soldier Uniforms. Older though, like something out of that movie "A Soldier's Story". The men had medals pinned to their jackets and held their hats in their hands. They walked over to my Grandmother and shook her hand. They turned in unision and walked to my Grandfather's casket. I couldn't take my eyes off of them and their very obvious respect of my Grandfather. They stood there in silence and saluted him. To say that I was surprised would be an understatement.

My Grandparents were, are and always will be a part of who I am. They were the only Grandparents I knew growing up. The parents of my Mom. My Dad's Father passed away shortly before (or after, no one has ever been really clear with me on the timing) I was born. My Dad's Mom remarried and moved to Nevada. I can count on one hand the number of times that I've seen her in my lifetime.

Like many kids born in the 1970's, I grew up in two worlds. My Grandparents world that still had that 1940s/1950s sense of right and wrong, proper and improper. Things were done a certain way and anything less wasn't discussed. Then there was my parents world. Mom and Dad were young when they married and started a family. As the oldest, my parents grew up with me it seems. Holidays and summer family picnics were spent with our extended family. Aunts, Uncles and cousins. My Mom is the middle child out of 5 kids.

I am the oldest Grandchild. Spoiled and worshiped by all of my family for 2 years, I month and 19 days until my brother showed up and started stealing my thunder. My memories of my "Mamma" (I couldn't say Grandma) and "Bampi" (me again, couldn't say Grandpa) are a mix of sweet, routine, fun and funny. If anything, my Grandparents were the normal safety zone for us kids. My Mamma was (and still is thank God!) the sweetest and most loving person. Bampi loved us too but he was always so quiet. He would sit in his chair and watch his ballgames (pick a season he loved all sports). He would also sit and work on his crossword puzzles. Such a smart man. When he wanted to be silly with us, he would yodel and square dance through the room. At Christmas time he would put on his Santa hat (with its special jingle bell on the end) and pass out presents. Most other holidays you could find him carving up the turkey or ham. If you couldn't locate him, he was hiding in the laundry room. Just trying to get away from all the noise. Kept "hankies" (handkerchiefs) in his shirt pocket. He would eat hot dogs raw. Make little cracker sandwhiches with saltines and butter. Didn't want his potatoes "mashed" so we would save him out some of the boiled potatoes. Liked his Vienna Sausages. He took us to a Christmas Party one year that his work put together. Took us to the Circus.

My favrite memory of Bampi comes from the summer he spent working with my parents and I on our familys barbecue stand. Hot Dogs, hamburgers. Breakfast sandwhiches. We grilled up breakfast and lunch for a regular stream of truck drivers. We worked a couple of car shows etc. It was something that my Dad had always wanted to do so our family gave it a try. This was a summer a couple of years before Bampi passed away. My parents worked the breakfast shift together and I went and took over for my Dad while he went to his 2nd job. One morning I went to get up and realised that I had pulled a muscle in my back. I could barely move. I could hardly walk. I was in horrendous pain and there was no way I could drive to the stand. My father would leave for his second job before I would get there and I was supposed to bring the afternoon food supplies from the store. My Mom would be there handling the crowd all alone and probably run out of supplies. No one had cell phones as regularly as they do now at that time so I was stuck. On the verge of panic I did what any girl would do. I called my Mamma. I was crying so hard Mamma couldn't really understand me. I was trying to convey that I was hurt and my Mom was stuck alone and could she please go bring her the things that she needed and help her? My Mamma decided to come to help ME and my Bampi went to help my Mom. After that he was addicted to it. He loved it. He came everyday and helped my parents. He was retired and I think that he really enjoyed a new challenge. He was a little slow on the grille but that was ok. All the customers thought he was great and for a quiet man, he could be a people person when he wanted to be. Long after the summer vending season had ended my parents still kept the stand open. We all knew that we were keeping it open for Bampi. My parents had already decided that the cost effectiveness of the business end of the stand wasn't going to be something that we would be able to do for our family so there would be no coming back the next summer. Those couple of months with Bampi were worth everything though. My Mom and I have those memories of her Daddy and nothing can take that away.

Those are my sweet memories of my Bampi. I was always proud of my Grandfather. He was quiet, intelligent and funny. Finding out about his Armed Services stint gave me pride also. It is a special-all-on-its-own kind of pride.

The man fought in a war. He saw combat and violence. He returned to the USA and worked hard to raise a family and retired to live out his life the way he wanted. So many people who have fought in the wars for our country have never gotten the chance to return to their family's or retire. They are the brave that are lost to their loved one's forever. Lost for us. Brave for us.

Bampi didn't die for our country but he served it just the same. To me a Veteran is a former member of the armed services that has fought for our country. Brave enough to face their biggest fears. Some died for their bravery. Others lived. I wouldn't be here today if Bampi had paid the ultimate sacrifice. The pride that I feel in knowing that there are so many more people alive today also because of his bravery then too, is something that I will cherish just as much as our barbecue stand adventures and his yodeling, and I will always regret that I didn't realise it before he passed on. He deserved to know how proud that I am for all that he was. Hopefully someday we will all get the chance to tell our brave ones about our pride in them as much as our love for them.