William Ferrier Pace Munro. My Papa. This is the day I always think of him and all the other’s who fought for our freedom. I only knew him briefly but I feel as though I still am getting to know him even now.
My Papa was born in Scotland. He grew up helping my Grandma’s father in his dental office, and later on became a dentist himself. During the war, like many, he fought all over the place. My favourite story of him is one during his time in the Navy. He was on a ship, looking for submarines. Because of the glare of the water, my Papa’s eyesight got bad and he needed to go get his eyes checked. When he was discharged, the ship that he had been on went back out to sea and was hit. I always think about this story, and tell myself that I am so glad his eyesight got bad our else I would not be here and would never have gotten to know this man.
Although I was only 3 at the time of his passing, I still remember the silly faces he would make as he stuck his hands on his head like antlers and wiggles his fingers. Or put a thumb to his nose to do the same. I am told often that we shared a sense of humour. Like me, my Papa had an underbite, and knowing that, I never want to change it. I love him dearly, even though I didn’t get enough time with him. Love you, Papa.
Lest we forget all those who fought for our freedom. May we continue to live in peace.
His laugh. So infectious ^
This is my favourite war photo of him, packing his bag. ^