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(Yeah, holidays are not my thing. My sister and I have discussed it a bit, and I'm not sure if it's our upbringing, our personalities, or our current lifestyle, but we don't care much about most holidays. I make an exception for this one.)
I looked back on some of my old Remembrance Day posts, and I don't really have anything to add to this one from 2010, so here's a slightly edited repost:
In Flanders Fields
By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918), Canadian Army
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.
(Read the story behind the poem on Arlington cemetery's website.)
I'm in favour of remembering things, because it's too easy to forget. I pause in remembrance of those who have lived and died, not only in war, but also in peace. Not only fighting for their nation, but also fighting for their ideals. "The foe" has many faces: among them are hatred, greed, deceit, selfishness. Am I ready to meet them and fight against them when they cross my path?
As a writer, I prefer the spilling of ink to the spilling of blood. Words have power to touch hearts, to change minds. And so I use my words with care as I urge you, this Eleventh of November, to pause for remembrance, to take up the torch, and to hold it high.
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I hope to be back soon. I miss blogging terribly, but as is my wont, I'm eyeball-deep in a semester, NaNoWriMo, and regular work. In the meantime, you can catch me on Twitter.
