I hope someday I will be able to meet my grandfather.
He died two weeks before I was born, meaning I never got a chance to meet him. He probably met me when I was still a part of my mom, but I never got to talk to him.
If I were to meet him I would ask him all about the war. He fought in World War II, which I find is one of the most interesting things to study and read about. I would ask him what it was like, what he did, and all the people he met. I would ask for everything he ever did in the war, and I would write it down and make a book. I think he should get a book, he was a very good man. He won many awards for saving people's lives.
He never told my dad about the war. He did tell my dad's half-brother, Uncle Walter Moeller IV. My dad calls him Butch, but we're not supposed to call him that in front of my Uncle. He told Uncle Butch because Butch fought in the Vietnam War, and the bonded over their shared struggled. I was pretty surprised to learn that Butch fought, he didn't really seem the type the two times I met him.
Ever since we moved to the town where my dad grew up, we spend many weekends out at my Grandfather's property. It's very big, dad says it's 246 acres. I've only seen a few of them. Most of the land is forest, but there is an 8 acre clearing with a big lake, a house, and three trailers. Dad says he's going to get them towed, which makes me upset. Two of the trailers are old and have lots of cool stuff in them, because that's where dad grew up. I go exploring every time I can, though most of the time Hornets have taken over.
I spend a bit of time wandering around in the woods with our two dogs; Maisey and Tater. They run around and sniff everything while I follow the trail, humming to myself and enjoying the nature. It's not very steep, which makes it easy. The furthest I've gone so far is to a hunting stand, where I climbed to the top and the dogs whined and barked because they didn't understand how I got there.
We think one of our neighbors has been hunting on our land, leaving unstable hunting stands and empty deer feeders behind. We do know that the Preacher, Melvin, does because we let him. He takes care of the clearing, and we let him hunt. I haven't met him yet, but he seems like a decent person.
After exploring the woods and watching the dogs try to swim in the pond and catch fish, me and my dad practice shooting guns. I usually use the --- gun, and then my grandpa's old gun from World War II. The first gun is like a shotgun, really long. I hold it in the cup of my shoulder like I do the shotguns, but the bullets are smaller and quieter. It also doesn't bruise my shoulder from the knockback. The 19-- gun is smaller, a handgun. It has a seperate magazine that I like loading and putting in the gun. It makes me feel cool. It hurts my hands to shoot, as I have to use two of them. It is very loud and very hard to aim. But at least I can see where the bullet lands while I'm shooting, and it's easier to police my brass when I'm done.
Then we drive the tractor a little bit and then ride the truck around the property, going on long-abandoned roads overflowing with plants and rocks. We try to get into the cabin, but we still can't get the key. I really like the cabin. We then drive back home, sometimes I'm allowed to drive the truck until we get to the highway.
I like going out there, enjoying nature and being outside. It's really pretty and fun.
I just wish Grandpa was there to enjoy it with me.
