11 November 2020
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Today I’m remembering the fallen, the sacrifices, the efforts of those involved in and affected by war.
I’m remembering my Grandad who was in the Navy, at different times injured, sunk and stranded under fire.
I’m remembering my Gran who was a land girl far from home as a teenager.
I’m remembering my Grandma who worked in production of medicines at Boots.
I’m remembering my Grandpa who was an engineer and then on another continent learning to fly.
I’m remembering my great-uncles in the RAF and my great-grandparents breeding pigeons on their roof to feed their family. My great-aunts who died of Diphtheria during the Great War.
I’m thinking of all the privations our forebears withstood and how wars forced them to accept a new normal, abandoning the daily lives they’d always known.
And I’m thinking that we aren’t, I’m not, doing enough to fight against the injustices, poverty, disaster, and awful changes that are happening in our world.
At 11am, I’ll be silent along with everyone else and I’ll shed some tears.