My grandfather was a tall and humble man. By the time I came along, he was retired from the postal service. This meant I got to see Pop a lot. He took me to dance class, taught me how to play Monopoly, and watched game shows with me. He was an amazing father figure, but I never got the chance to have adult conversations about his life.

I knew he was in the Army. There was a handsome photo of him in his uniform. I think he was drafted into World War II. Before serving, he played on a minor-league baseball team.

I also knew he’d been wounded and received a Purple Heart. He was shot in the hip, so it bothered him the rest of his days and ended his baseball days.

I wish I’d had the chance to ask him about all these experiences. He was a brave man with layers of life-lived. I could have learned so much more from him.

Later, I found some tokens from the war. There are several documents about his service. There was also a Nazi pin and a letter from the Army authorizing him to take this object. I don’t know why it was in his possession. Maybe it was common, or maybe it was something he needed to do.

What I do know is that my Pop was the only dad I ever had. He loved me with all his heart. I always felt safe when I was with him.

After the war, he worked for the postal service for many years. My grandmother, a teacher, continued to receive his pension benefits after he passed.

I will not let his sacrifice be in vain. He deserves better than that, as do so many veterans. If my grandfather was brave enough to fight Nazis literally, I can be, too.