I remember the handsome fellow in the old black and white photo every day.
But whenever Nov. 11 – Remembrance Day – draws near on the calendar, those memories become vivid and my thankfulness grows each year.
That’s my grandfather, Philip Schwab. He passed away in 2005, though it seems like yesterday.
According to information gleaned long ago from my Nana, Gramps served with the Loyal Edmonton Regt., from 1940 to 1946. A member of the Royal Canadian Legion, Pro Pats.
I’ll never be able to thank him enough for everything.
Some re-sharing of thoughts: How can you adequately show your appreciation for the man who played a huge part in everything you’ve achieved?
For sowing the seeds of a lifelong passion for sport? For creating the template you refer to almost daily in terms of raising a family?
The answer: you can’t.
So I’d simply like as many people as possible to again know a little about a special man.
A man who served his country with distinction in the Second World War. (If you look closely at the photo, you can see his message to Beverley – my Mum, his daughter – sent during the war).
A man who served his family with even more distinction. Married to the same woman for more than 60 years.
The man who taught me how to count – by twos – as I sat in a high chair watching him play crib. (I believe I may have been the first Kindergartener ever to fully appreciate the number 29).
The man who rescued me from my first driving lesson (at age three, I somehow backed his car from the driveway into the middle of a busy road).
The man who instilled in me my competitiveness by kicking my butt at lawn darts (and anything else) until I actually deserved to beat him.
The man who taught me that if you believed in your convictions, to hold firm. (Even if the encyclopedia said otherwise!)
The man responsible for my love of lowbrow humour.
The man who used his cane as a hockey stick during an impromptu backyard game with my then young son.
The word hero is overused, tossed around casually. Gramps was my hero, and that was for real.
I’ll never forget the time he suffered a heart attack and was in hospital.
My son and I went for a visit. We picked up my Nana and arrived at his bedside. As folks in hospital are prone to do, he didn’t look too great lying in the bed.
But as soon as he saw us, he perked up. He grabbed a little teddy bear his great grandson had brought along, and immediately started doing silly imitations. Amazing.
And I have a zillion of those anecdotes. We had long, animated discussions about many things. But one thing we never, ever, talked about was his time during the war.
I was an inquisitive young lad, so clearly wanted to ask about it, but was always politely and quietly told not to ask. It was off limits.
So I didn’t.
I can only imagine how horrific it may have been, or what would go through the minds of any young person serving in such a capacity so far from home.
I’m just so thankful he did come home, when so many did not. They will always have my eternal respect.
Lest we forget.
Do you have a special person you think of on Remembrance Day? I'd love to hear the tales of the people who meant the most to you.
PQB News/VI Free Daily editor Philip Wolf welcomes your questions, comments and story ideas. He can be reached at 250-905-0029 or via email at philip.wolf@blackpress.ca.
