Lest We Forget

Because my Pop fought and was injured in World War II, Anzac Day means so much to us, as we know how much he had to sacrifice to go to war.  We used to love hearing his stories about the war, but we never really realised what he had to go through and how much it affected him, until later in his life.  I remember as a child thinking how exciting it was that my Pop fought and was shot in a war.  He used to show us the wound in his stomach, and we loved to feel the hole.   

Now I realise that war isn't something to be excited about, and I still can't imagine what it would've been like, but since starting my new job teaching English to children who are refugees, I appreciate even more those who fight for the rights, safety and freedom of others.

Last night my friend Alison messaged me, asking if I wanted to go to the dawn service this morning. I have never been to one and had always thought it would be nice to go, so I agreed to get up early so we could go together.  I asked the boys if they wanted to come and Harri said 'as if!!' when he realised that he would have to get up at 5.30am.  I reminded him what the soldiers did for us, but he still couldn't be persuaded that it was worth getting up early for.  It was nice to go to the dawn service (even without the boys) and I was surprised how many people were there. 

After my Pop passed away in 2010, we decided to we wanted to stay in Launceston to watch the Anzac March, instead of going out to Deloraine like we normally would.   Anzac Day 2010 was our last one together as a family, and the following year I decided that I would rather be with my family at Deloraine again, even though Pop is no longer there to march.  It was nice to go out there again today. 

My Pop always looked so proud but also sad when he marched.  I miss him and Nan all the time, but never more than on Anzac Day.   Thanks Jay for photoshopping these photos together for me today.