Armistice Day.............

Hallowe'en is over, with every half empty bag of chips and teeny weeny chocolate bar put away. One way or another.....yumyum.

I was at the Pharmasave yesterday morning, listening to a tale. Apparently more than one family has their home fully decorated for Christmas already.

And I get it. The lights and decorations are cheerful and twinkling and bright. Hard to resist. The world is dark enough at times. And no one loves Christmas more than me.

We live in a society that allows us to express ourselves any way we like, within reason. And I'll be throwing up my Santa Claus collection before long too. In a couple of weeks. And it has nothing to do with Remembrance Day coming. We all know that, but I just don't feel ready to celebrate Christmas until after I've laid my wreath at the Cenotaph and paid my respects. It seems orderly to me.

Besides, it suits my more practical side, all I can think of is the dust that piles up around and behind the tree and other decor in the weeks leading up to the Holidays. But that's my problem, I love hauling out my bins every year and looking at all my ornaments.

Remembrance Day is a big day on my fall calendar.

When I was a kid in Rollo Bay School, we were encouraged every year to write a poem or essay for Remembrance Day and I worked hard! Momma was a wealth of knowledge on that subject and loved to see me compete. I clearly remember winning with a poem one year and an essay the next, with a certificate and a cash prize! I walked on air.

I started laying a wreath for my father after I finished High School, and I've done so, with terrific pride, every year since. My grandsons live in Souris and attend the ceremony every year now too, and often join with me in laying it and I couldn't be prouder. Because, lets face it, I won't be able to do it forever and I hope my children and their children will carry on.

At that age you have no idea of what it all means. Why would you, millions of men and women went to war so that you would NEVER know the hell it really was. They paved the way to freedom, leaving it all on the altar, whether it was their mental health, where they had injuries you couldn't see, or their crippling wounds, or indeed, their very lives.

These are military photos of my grandfather Henry and his brother William, who both served in World War 1. They hang proudly at the Souris Legion. They had a third brother Edmund who also enlisted in World War 1, in Newfoundland, but it wasn't a part of Canada yet, (1949) so he served for the British Army. At least, that's the stuff of family folklore, nobody really knows that.

Edmund was never heard from again, and I Blogged his story some time ago. Missing, dead, captured, nobody knows.

My grandfather returned, married and raised his family.

William fell at Vimy Ridge on the first wave of the conflict, among thousands of others, who never knew how critical their sacrifice was to the outcome of the War. Their work was done.

These next two pictures are my father William and his youngest brother Everett. My father would have been about 18 years old, and my Uncle Everett looks to be about 10, but he must have been around 16 or so at the time. He was about 15 years younger than my father, and enlisted in the Canadian Navy in peacetime, serving on the Cornwallis. My father served overseas during World War 2 as a Grenadier Guard in the Canadian Expeditionary Force, seeing active duty all over the European theatre. He operated the tanks, which must have been hellish. The original military picture of my father was framed and hanging proudly at the foot of the stairs in my aunt Kathleen's house. Tucked inside the frame were the two badges removed from his uniform. But all was lost in that terrible fire that destroyed everything in the house. So I have this copy, passed on to me by my cousin Betty. It's a treasure.

Although Everett enlisted after the War, since he was too young to serve during the War, he was given an honorable discharge due to his terrible eyesight. He always loved the water, and when he died he was buried at sea, but he didn't get to serve very long.

What would my father or grandfather think if they were here today? To see what we made of the world that they gave to us.

Would they shake their heads at the waste of life in the ongoing Wars globally, in many countries? How could there be any sense in that? What was it all for? Does anybody learn anything?

No conflicts on Canadian soil. Yet. But in some parts of the globe, the fighting never ends, it's generational.

It's complicated. And it's ugly.

We have it pretty easy, for all. No one is shooting at us and the stores are full of food. There is gas to buy, and we're free to do pretty much as we please. Even if we just want to complain about it.

The former generations made sure of that.

We live in a world now where cows can milk themselves, little flying machines can seed our fields from the sky, and if a worker deep in the oil patch thousands of miles away signs his paycheck, and takes a picture of it, it will be immediately deposited (somehow) through the air waves back home for his family, with the check never leaving his hand......

Hard to imagine, but mundane now, for our generation.

This Remembrance Day I will wear my poppy proudly and hold back the tears that come every year as I lay my wreath. I always remove my poppy, give it a kiss and fasten it to the wreath as I place it on the rack. I never know what else to do with it with respect, and that makes sense to me. The crowds are always large every year, people always seem to come home for it. It's better than church for me. I enjoy the speeches, O Canada, the Last Post, the reading of In Flanders Fields, all very meaningful, even in this day and age.

Would you live anywhere else?

O Canada, you want to believe we stand on guard for thee............