Take This In. Remember This.

Today is the first day of November. My American friends are thinking about Thanksgiving and planning for turkey. My British friends are thinking about "Remember, Remember the 5th of November" and planning for bonfires. At this point of the year, I'm usually binging on Halloween candy and looking forward to Christmas. In between the "celebration" holidays, Remembrance Day tends to sit in the back of the mind. It's a day that I do appreciate, but I'm guilty of forgetting until "the day of" and taking a moment to really appreciate it becomes an afterthought. This year it has been on my mind with much more weight than usual.

On 20 & 22 October 2014, two different attacks were carried out against Canadian  soldiers, killing two. These events were shocking to everyday Canadians as, fortunately, we are not accustomed to such attacks within our own country, and certainly not from one of our own. Much has been said about these events and as I tried to process it all from across an ocean, I went through a range of emotions: confusion at mixed reports, fear and sadness. I felt disgust at the complete lack of feeling required to kill an unarmed soldier acting as a ceremonial guard at a War Memorial. Finally, gratitude.

I cannot find the credit for this photo.
 If anyone knows it, please let me know!

I have always been grateful for my freedoms, but I know that I take it for granted. I really have to think to come up with many "large scale" homicides in Canada within the last few years. Last year, 3 RCMP officers were killed in Moncton, New Brunswick and in 2005, 4 RCMP officers were killed in Mayerthorpe, Alberta, which was the worst multiple officer killing in modern Canadian history. Of non-officer deaths, I can recall 2 incidents resulting in deaths in schools. Combined with last month's events, these are the most shocking Canadian events in my 29 year memory. The truth is though, that this is a small number and is a testament to our usual peaceful state and the current increase is an eye opener to what other nations experience almost daily.

Over the past month or so, London has been preparing for Remembrance Day by creating an immense poppy display in the moat at the Tower of London to commemorate 100 years since the start of World War I. With current events in my mind, I finally made my way over there this morning and I'm not sure I can accurately describe my feelings there. At first, I thought about how beautiful it is and then hoped that the mass of people thronging to see would not ruin the experience. Instead, those people made it that much more touching.

I watched as red-shirted volunteers worked alongside cadets and military personnel. They laughed with one another and assembled the flowers methodically and respectfully. They took photos together, probably having made new friends through this experience.

I listened to parents explain the poppies to their children, that each of the 888,246 ceramic flowers symbolized a British soldier killed during the war.

One little girl asked why the war started and her mother explained that someone wanted somebody else's land and power.

"A silly reason to start a war isn't it?" 

I was nearly moved to tears when I heard a woman say to a young child what a unique and precious experience it is. 

"Take this in. Remember this." 

I looked out at the sea of red poppies and thought about each one as a body, as a person. If nearly 900,000 poppies could fill a large moat, how much more would that number of people fill a battlefield? And then a cemetery?  How would it empty a heart? And not just the hearts of those who lost loved ones, but of those that saw that loss and survived? It's an incredible visual.

As far as I understand, the number of poppies do not include the deaths of Commonwealth soldiers. I wonder if the reason for this decision was that there simply was not room enough to include Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa casualties.

 As I made my way around the tower, through the crowds,  everyone was respectful in waiting for a place to get a photo and then politely making room for others. I felt that everyone was touched by the display. Even the usual chatter that accompanies such a large gathering of people seemed to be at a lower volume level. It was much more than a tourist attraction - it truly became what it had been intended to be, a memorial. There was a tangible feeling of respect and honour in the air.

My personal experience with war is incredibly limited, but I see more and more how it has shaped me. I remember school assemblies for Remembrance Day. I always thought I needed to have something something profound to think of during the moment of silence. It was easiest to think of my Grandpa, my Dad's father who had served as a mechanic for the Canadian Forces in WWII. He died when I was quite young and I was not able to get to know him as well as I would have liked. After he passed away, I remember going to my Grandma's and my Dad offered to show me his father's Dog-Tags from the war. I was fascinated and my young mind imagined the war as a great fairy tale of brave soldiers triumphing over evil. I felt proud that my Grandpa had contributed to that victory. 

My great-grandfather on my Mom's side served in WWI for the British Forces. I never knew him and didn't know much about him as a child.  Moving here, I have been able to learn more about him and how the war changed him. I see how it affected my Granny as she tried to understand a withdrawn father who refused to speak of it or receive recognition for any of his actions. She and her siblings then grew up through WWII, with bombings in England and rationing of food. That shaped her and how she raised her family and in turn, shaped the person my Mom is and who I am.

In my mind, I still sometimes imagine the world as a fairy tale place where good will always triumph, and I hope that this is true, but each day I better understand the cost.  It feels safe to say that we all know someone who serves their respective country, has given their life to do so or is a friend to someone who has lost a loved one. This year, I am more aware of them, and more aware of how lucky I am.

On 11 November, last year, I got on a plane to London and, essentially, started a new life. I was wearing a Canadian poppy on that day, and in the wake of recent news, I searched it out.  It has become a great conversation starter as classmates and tutors have noticed it and we compare it to the British one. Some of them are surprised to learn that it was a Canadian who wrote "In Flanders Fields". I learned that the leaf included on the British poppy is meant to represent 11:00, the end of the war.  I have learned about different traditions of Remembrance from my New Zealand friend who "remembers" in April with Poppy Day in commemoration of a battle significant to them. 

This past year has been a year of gratitude for me. I find myself constantly overwhelmed at the opportunities I am able to take and the people who support me in my goals. Today, I truly appreciate AND FEEL the freedom that allows me to have all this. When I think back to those school assemblies, trying to think the "right" thoughts and feel the "correct" emotions, I remember crying a little bit during "The Last Post", not knowing why, except that it was probably a good thing to do. I would wipe away the tears nonchalantly and hope my classmates wouldn't notice. Maybe it's all just part of growing up, but I understand now, and as my understanding increases, so too does my gratitude.

To that wise woman walking behind me today:

I have taken this in.

I will remember.