This evening I spent way too much time doing nothing online, so I finally decided I need something to show for it (a blog post).
Today I gave a children's Sunday School lesson about the Holy Ghost, and as an example used one of my grandfather's experiences during WWII. As I was trying to recall it (as my dad had told it to me 20 years ago), I realized that I was shady on details: how old was he when he was drafted? How long was he in the war? What did he actually do? Fortunately, the internet is a marvel, and I was able to find his obituary online, and made some cross references to find out more, but I wish I had a first-hand account.
Obviously, it's too late for that now. And the thing is, I did make it a point to talk to my grandpa about his life during the few months I lived with them after college. I'm very grateful for that. I guess I'm kicking myself for not having been more curious, not pressing more for details about everything, because now the chance is gone. For everything.
I always think no one could be interested in my personal musings and details of my day-to-day that I consider obvious or mundane. Today, I realized that my grandfather's obvious and mundane would be a treasure for me to have. I know some because I knew him, and he wrote down a lot. But not everything.