Write a Letter to my Grandparents once a month

my grandpa is pretty much the coolest guy alive…if you say other wise, well, you’re just plain wrong. He moved to America as a wee lad. He was there that morning, when those young men landed on the bloody beaches of Normandy & was one of the very lucky ones who survived. He continued to serve in European theater for the rest of WWII, entertaing the wounded & sick through his singing & improve. When he returned he used his aviation & psychology knowlage to become the head of NASAs psychology aviation program & human engineering. He worked with people like Buzz Aldrin, John Glen & Neil Armstrong to figure out how build the crafts according to how their minds would work & react. He speaks Swedish for God’s sake! “Hergee berger snooger bork”. He taught me important things, like respect for others & myself, he taught me to shoot arrows, how to skip rocks, throw coins with stamps on them up towards the ceiling so that the stamps stick, the joys of woodworking, love of litature, how to cultivate gardens & distiguish palnts. When he retired from NASA he returned to theater & founded an outdoor theater honoring the local native americans with whom he had befriended & respected. Now important parts of him are missing. His brightness had dimmed into confusion & sometimes anger at no longer being independent. But he is still the most handsome classy man I know. His wife my grannie was & is drop dead. I imagine her blowing the doors off rooms when she entered. She dated the ever “poltically correct” Charlton Heston in college. She has always been ahead of her time. When I was a teen I would strut through the door runway style, donning cheesy dresses with combat boots & she whistle & clap & tell me to “Throw those tits out!” “Only three dollars!” I would shout over the music & she would say, “Now THAT is a bargain!” Her down fall is also her strength she loves all people no matter what & will never slow down until. My other pops taught me to look at the world through all senses. We would go on bird walks & he encouraged me to identify species by their sound. He taught me the power of smell through his cooking too. He was born in Germantown Queens, NYC. I know only the German words grandpa taught me, he called them “tart words for smart people”. Another words German profanity. He showed me it is better to live your life on your own terms. He burned his baptismal papers in front of his mom at the age of 16 to procalim atheism, & nearly failed high school because he’d skip class in favor for a 5 cent subway trip to Harlem, to watch the blues & jazz greats. He later became a chemical engineer & his daughter (my mom) a minister, karma buddy. He writes me handwritten letters regularly, still reads at least 3 books a week & remains the biggest wiseass east of the Mississippi. My Grams is a Julliard School of Music graduate & has shown me the value of endless pateince, considering who she is married too she must be the goddess of tolerance. She is one classy bird too. Oh yea, my grandpa knows how to catch a Junebug, tie a string to it & watch it fly. How cool is that? Very, my friends, very. I kinda like good company & these people really know how to live, so I owe it to em’.