Many years ago, I felt inspired to write about the memories of my father, and my search for his WWII history. Below is the revised version of that document.
Life is Like a Box of Chocolates – Marion J Chard
Most of you will be familiar with the popular quote from the movie Forrest Gump, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get.” Well, it also rang true for me.
I don’t remember the first time that well-worn sepia-toned box with the raised gold filigree and the words “Bunte – Chicago – Mi Choice Chocolates” appeared in my life. Still, it seems it was always a part of my world. The objects within held a strange and constant fascination for a young girl trying desperately to hold on to the fleeting war memories relayed by her dad to his loving family and friends. The rectangular box was never far from my side and was kept in a nightstand as I moved from house to house and city to city. Occasionally, I would sit on the floor, carefully remove the tattered lid, and lovingly lay each item before me. Maybe I was hoping a name would mysteriously appear on the back of a photo, giving me some clue as to who these young men were who stood next to my father, smiling back at me. Maybe it was a source of comfort and a way for me to try and hold on to a part of my life, for my father had passed away when I was only twelve. Maybe it was all those things and more. However, the one thing I did not know and could not know was the critical role the fraying box would play later in my life.
