If I could talk to someone for a day, who is in history...

         All the time, I hear about my grandfather, how he was dearly loved, courageous, funny, and always smiling. Sadly, I don’t have much of a memory of him, because he deceased after a nap that had turned out to be a hard attack. I don’t remember enough to picture a character of an elderly man, or a solid memory about him to make me ‘know him’. If I had the chance to talk to anyone, I would pick my grandfather. He lived through World War Two, and lived a different life from our modern society. I would be curious to learn about more informative stories about the early nineteen hundreds. I could recall bits and pieces of how he would be loose on rules for me, letting me stomp around the house, and jumping up and down on his bed, flicking his large over hanging lamp on and off. This would usually be against the rules in my family’s house, but when my ‘Deda’ (grandfather in Serbian) arrived with my grandmother, the rules disappeared as soon as my parents left from my attention. Apparently, my Deda had been in the Second World War, being a chef in the army. But he hadn’t stayed in the Serbian force for long, before he got sent away because of his ‘flat feet’. He was intelligent in a way that he’d snuck himself out of the army without going against the laws, unlike his fellow spiritual brothers.
          But also, my grandfather could’ve died in the First World War, because the attackers at the time were advancing towards their town, and my Deda’s grandfather wanted to take him. Instead, his mother refused to let him go with his grandfather. Apparently in the end, the cart that my Deda’s grandfather used to travel with had been stolen, and the bandits had left him behind, shot dead. I thought that nobody else in the world would fit as a better person to talk to for a day,than my Deda, in my opinion. I chose my grandfather, if I had the chance of talking to someone in history, because he died when I was only three, having only a few vivid memories and stories from my grandmother. All the stories that my grandmother retold me always beckoned me to want to figure out the missing information about my Deda’s harsh childhood.
          Ever since I started making a family tree, I searched and asked anyone that might know some stories or names having to do with my family. I thought that the missing pieces could be answered by my grandfather, having my grandmother only knowing so much about his life, history, or family. There were stories about world war two that were so interesting, apparently my grandfather had been trained in the army forcefully, and then almost died in many circumstances. I also would want to see a question from my grandmother. She still cried every time we passed a grave yard, which made me sad. My grandfather had obviously been extremely important and dear to her, seeing that she cried every time anyone mentioned his name. If I could talk to my grandfather for a day, I would talk about his history, and life as a child. I would also ask him about my grandmother, and tell her about what he’d said. I really wanted to unravel the stories that everyone talked about, and I’d ask about the stories that my grandmother told me. I would also tell him about the family, after the years that he missed, deceasing at least nine years ago. Through the years, my other two brothers had been born, and my aunt and uncle had gotten married. Seeing him would be a little creepy, but I’d still try to seek information about his family ‘history’, so I could retell them. From all the stories that I’d heard, from all the people but the original story teller were interesting.
       In the end, I would definitely pick my grandfather as a person to talk to for a day. He was quite memorable to some people, and he was very dear to many. I would ask him about stories of his family, to clarify the ones that my grandmother had retold me. Sadly, I’d never met him as an older child, so I could not possibly know much about him. If I could meet him in person, I could piece some new memories of my grandfather.