Today is Remembrance Day, a day to remember deeds that were done long ago and to be thankful. As a child, I always loved Remembrance Day, which is probably a strange thing. There was just something about having those poppies handed out before the assembly, the poems that we would write about the war, the paintings of poppies (or coquelicot for us French immersion students) that made me feel like I was being trusted with something. Remembrance Day always made me feel grown up for some reason. I would wear my poppy proudly and bow my head during the assembly and try to be mindful of sacrifices that were made that I couldn’t understand. Even now it’s hard to understand, since no one in my family was in any war, it’s easy to feel disconnected from it. However, I still get that feeling of being trusted with something on Remembrance Day, being trusted with a memory that must be carried on. I took the time at work today to sit quietly at my desk while the radio played O Canada and Taps before the moment of silence, and am wearing my poppy. I hope you all had a chance to do the same.

One thought on “Remembering.

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