20 years ago, when I was saying goodbye to everyone in Romania as I was moving to US, my Second World War veteran grandfather told me, and I will never forget it: “Go proud! Show Americans that we are also smart and capable and proud!’
My grandfather had ultimate respect for America. Because America had come and saved us from the Nazis. They didn’t need to. There was no threat to them, But they came with all their might and saved us all.
My grandfather on my father’s side, Tataia, had a rusty German machine (tank?) in his backyard. He kept it there, blue paint flaking, rusty patches blooming all over. I have very uncertain memories of my childhood, due to my penchant for escapism, but that German machine in the backyard was a big presence throughout. .
Tetea used to love talking about the war. About tanks. It was the only thing that got him going and at my young age I didn’t get it. Boring. I thought. Traumatic, I know now.
My grandfather on my mother’s side, Tataia, never talked about the war. Not that I can remember. Except for one thing. The one time that he was driving an army truck across a bridge and he was not allowed to stop for the old woman crossing. One story. Told over and over. About the death of an old woman that could have easily been avoided.
And now, America of today bullies Ukraine’s and Europe’s hero, in the most despicable, incomprehensible way. How do I explain this? How to I reconcile it? What would Tetea and Tataia have to say about it?
To be honest and truthful, I don’t even know how much of these stories is truth and how much fabricated memory. Respect for America is one of the certainties I hold in regard to my grandparents. They had that. And after the display in the White House today between Trump, Vance and Zelenskyy, there is a hole in my heart saying they were probably the last generation to know that.
