Today is the 11th of November 2018, 100 years since the end of WWI.
Not only is it the centenary, but fitting that the 11th Day of the 11th Month should fall on a Sunday, a Remembrance Sunday that should be respected by all, regardless of their status in the world or the weather.
There is a special picture in the sand in the next town, so not local as I thought. We are hoping to go down this afternoon before the tide washes it away.
We shall however go to the outside service here and show our respects.
I have no stories of relatives who died in the wars, but respect the fallen who paid the ultimate for someone like me.
Together with the majority of the town, Hubby and I will stand in the rain (it’s pouring here) wearing our poppies, a small price to pay for their sacrifice.
Talking to our neighbour yesterday, her grandfather died in WWI, never seeing her mother as her grandmother was just pregnant with her when he went away.
It reminded me a little of this, something I wrote several years ago, and one of Mum’s favourite poems by me:
A life shared for three score years,
Now a home only for one,
Hours in front of an old TV,
Oh why does nobody come?
A life shared for two score years,
Grown children on the make,
Visits from riotous grandchildren,
‘Hey Granma! You got any cake?
A life shared for 20 years,
Dreams will now stay in the night,
Kids have left home, so much left to do,
But no cosy future in sight.
A life shared just a matter of months,
A new baby is on the way,
Such joy to be blessed with this miracle
Conceived on one’s wedding day.
So many shared lives.
So many cut short,
Sound familiar to you?
Then spare them a thought.