I re-read my old Remembrance Day posts and decided I couldn't do better today than what I've said before. Here's my 2008 Remembrance Day post:
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
— Lt. Col. John McCrae, MD
Canadian Army
I have a Canadian coworker, who has made huge contributions to my sanity over the course of the past three years.
So I wandered to her desk yesterday morning, and announced, "I am here in my capacity as someone who asks stupid questions." She laughed and said, "Thanks."
My question was, "Does Canada observe two minutes of silence at 11 AM today?"
Yes, they do. A lot of countries do.
Why don't we? I have a variety of theories, but here's what I have settled on: We do not know war like Europe knows war. We don't even call November 11th "Remembrance Day". We honour our veterans, and rightly so. We fly our flag, as so we should. But we don't remember.
We have been blessed; our cities do not have the scars of war still upon them. Our elderly do not tell stories of huddling in air raid shelters while the sounds of planes and bombs roared outside. We do not have a war memorial in every town. We do not have these collective memories handed from one generation to the next, as Europeans do.
Our people, our families, have been touched by war. But our land, this past century, has not: not like France, or Poland, or Russia, or Britain. Or Iraq. And that, I think, is why we do not observe the collective moment of silence; we do not know, as they do, the relief of hearing two minutes of silence after years of hearing nothing but suffering.
Think of the poppies. Remember. And give thanks.
The half-witted, half-baked, half-mad ramblings of a widowed, forty-something, earth-loving, commuter-cycling, theatre-going, runner-girl Christ follower. Abandon seriousness, all ye who enter here.
What are we talking about today?
I'll get back to theme days once I find a groove of posting regularly. In the meantime, most of my posts are about some variation of books, bikes, buses, or Broadway. Plus bits about writing, nonprofits, and grief from time to time.
This blog is mostly lighthearted and pretty silly. It's not about the terrible things happening in the world, but please know that I'm not ignoring those things. I just generally don't write about them here.
11 November 2012
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4 comments:
It's only two minutes.....we should do so much more.
While we honor those who served and suffered we should also mediate on the insanity that requires the service and causes the suffering.
Moving to San Francisco Bay area a few years ago, I discovered a few people that do remember air raid drills and even a few scares. But, you're right, no war scars to make us remember. We need to work to remember what those veterans did not so long ago against a true global threat.
All great points.
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