It started in grade school, continued through my high school years and never waned during my adult and now my mid-life years.
While I cannot explain my affinity it is as much a part of me as my freckles.
Wadded Kleenex is jammed in my pockets for the tears I know will come. Sun, sleet or snow I stand in unity at a Cenotaph of my home place of the moment (Kitchener, Hespeler, Guelph, Thornhill, Scarborough), shuddering at times from the day’s harsh weather, but, no, more honestly the shudders rise from the sorrow my heart bears for the dead, the lost, their loved ones.
I remember being tyrant-like to my brother when we were young, because I would make him watch the TV ceremony from Ottawa – the before and after. There has always been a pull, a need I never understood, compelling me to mark the day in my small significant way.
Blessed to not have experienced the war I only heard snippets and stories from my Grandpa Rayner and his time in the Sudan (and I was in awe of the mammoth and colourful butterfly tattoo on his chest!). He was a decorated Sargent Major in the British army and my father, a Korean Veteran, never speaks of his time serving – and for me … I was too young to remember Vietnam, so it was during my time at the University of Guelph that I found the honoring and respect equal to my heart. War Memorial Hall at Guelph is a beautiful historic building honouring our veterans and I recall President Rozanski, one year, delivering a compelling and moving service, so moving I wrote thanking him and his staff.
When my daughter Michelle was born in 1987 I vowed that while the rest of the world rather ignored Remembrance Day (pitiful turnouts!) I would share with her my thoughts and feelings of the day’s importance. Each year I took her out of school and we spent the day together – first the Cenotaph, then lunch, then Michelle and Mommy time. Just to be grateful, to be free, to be alive and to be Canadian.
One year when Michelle was 8 or 9 she was so moved she wrote a poem for our veterans and the Cambridge Times published it! … So sorry that I do not have a copy which has been lost in all my moves … we were so proud of our little girl – she got it!
This year my husband Bob and I volunteered as poppy people – you know – those folk you see with boxes in front of stores and it was a wonderful experience – yes, even here in the GTA people stopped to talk and share their stories of how war has touched them, their family or to say thank you. Tears again traced my cheeks, this year, a balm to my sorrow.
Tonight we attend a Remembrance ceremony and tomorrow I’ll be at the local legion’s Cenotaph — Kleenex in hand, tears no doubt will fall, this time I feel my heart will be lighter as we begin to fully honour our valiant heroes and heroines.
Christine