The Voice of Chaos

I should warn you what follows is a post based on memories and recollections of child hood stories – verification in the form of reading a news paper artical I can no longer find some of these facts could very well not be facts.

Last year in December I lost a very dear relative – yes there are some I truly love and want to be near. His name was Gordon Wilson. Gordon Wilson was 4 years old when 12 of his older brothers and sisters went to war. I never met all 12 of Gordon Wilson’s Brothers and sisters I do not even know all of their names.

Carrie Wilson

Hatty Wilson

Harry Wison

are the 3 of these 12 that came back. Yes thats right 3 came back.  War does’t just take the life of those who do not return it takes the lives of those who return as well.

Harry was to young to join the war he was 14 years old and lied about his age.  He would return at Canada at 19 years old and marry my grandmother.

My Grandpa never talked about the war – he never told me what division he was in and never told me more then one story.  I know that he operated a gatlen gun and that he was part of D – Day

Please understand I do not hate him for the things he has done – I just know that the war stole from him his life befor it ever started and he had no way to really get it back.

The timing of this story always changed – some times they had been marching for days – some times they had just landed and some times they had been in a fox hole for a week and just switched off.

His platoon (? the way he told it I was led to believe there was maybe 40 of them ) Came into a town – it had been deserted  there was not life accept ONE COW.  they were all pretty hungry starving for meat.  So the butchered the cow and had steak for dinner inside this church with this amazing stain glass window – he always described the stain glass window different but with an air of appreciation I rarely heard in his voice.  they all finished the meal and his platoon sargent turns to the group and says ” now who will do the dishes ” My grandpa stands up and says ” I will ” He then collects a bunch of plates and throws them through the plate glass window. At this point the story  he begins to laugh and laugh and laugh. He then stops and the story is over and he useally says ” Now stop asking so many questions Krista ” and turns on the tv.

It took me a long time to understand what this story meant to him. It took me a long time to apreciate what he was telling me. There is no glory in war ONLY distruction. Maybe it wasn’t what he was telling me but it is what I took away.

My Aunty Carrie was a nurse – she never saw frontlines and she never left England – she had many stories to tell of shopping and of being chased by all the boys. She married a british aristicrat who died early she then moved back to Canada and married again. I never met any of her husbands. She never had children of her own -offered to adopt my dad when he was younger. This created tension between her and my dads mother.  Who wile she had 14 kids of her own and barely knew my father existed couldnt bear to let him live with her.

My Aunty Hatty or Aunty Pat as I knew here – also never saw front lines – she never talked about the war much. She married -had 2 kids -  I never met her husband. By the time I knew her – she and my Aunty Carrie lived alone in the same town and were rnever  seen at family events with out each other.  Both with a wiskey in hand smoking cigrettes from a cigrette holder

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cigarette_holder.jpg

They all died with in a years of each other Hatty Wilson in early 1998, The Summer of 1998 Harry Wilson passed away, followed by Carrie Wilson in early 1999 I was by her side up until the last day, having postponed university for a semester to be with her.  Q was given the responsibility of telling me about all but Carrie  He did a graciouse job and held me while I cried and listened to my stories.

Of My great Grandmothers 14 chidren 12 went to war 3 returned….  All three forever changed by the experience.

According to my text book for my Business communications course the following is one of the shortest and most effective business letters ever written. It contains only 19 words

Gentleman:

You have undertaken to cheat me. I wont sue you, for the law is to slow. I ‘ll ruin you.

Your truly;

Cornelius Venderbilt

This message was sent to a pair of business associates who tried to swindle him while he vacationed in Europe.

The one thing I am learning in this course is I use to many words. I was told by an employer that my weakness was my writing – he offered to play for a business writing course. its no secret my writing is one of my Achilles heals ( yes yes I have more then one for sure ) – its part of the reason I write so much. The more I do it – the better I will become.

I am enjoying this course immensely and learning a great deal. Occasionally I get distracted and would rather be doing something else like my computer course.

One thing that concerns me though – as my writing becomes more clear, will it become more sterile. I often use words simply because I like the way the look when typed or hand written. Not necessarily because I like what the mean, or because they are the best word. This of course promotes poor communication but it makes the paragraph pretty. This concern is usually fleeting because as my writing improves I find it is easier and easier to determine what it is I am trying to say and actually say it.

I can still have fun with language I think by taking a paragraph to say what can be said in a sentence – but when I need to I should be able to turn that paragraph back into a sentence.

The other problem is I am not always brave enough to be direct. I like being indirect and allowing others to interpret. I find you can learn a lot about a person intentions by the way they interpret a ambiguous message.

it is very possible as I learn to become more concise I will simply have control and be able to choose when to be concise and when to be ambiguous.

Any way back to English