I recall, as a little girl, frequently opening my closet door to pull out toys or clothes — as little girls do — and getting sidetracked by a large, heavy hunk of metal laying flat in my closet floor.
The hunk of metal was inscribed with my grandfather’s name, date of birth and death, and years of service in the United States Armed Forces.
He was not killed in action, but, as a veteran of World War I, he died before I was born. Before my parents were married, I believe.