I don't have anything profound to say. It just seems wrong to write about cute stuff my kids said or stupid stuff I'm worrying about today. My husband is planning to take his grandfather to the dinner at the Legion tonight (hopefully he won't heckle the Peacekeepers this time). I went a couple of times -- it was wonderful, and sad. The very first time I visited Matt, Grandpa started telling war stories; I didn't realize until afterwards that this was the first time Matt had heard any of them. It was riveting. It wasn't all hell, of course -- in a way, the war was the only way he would have seen as much of the world as he did, and some of the times were grand old times indeed. But the parts that were hell were appalling, horrifying, unimaginable for those of us who weren't there. I worry sometimes that, as his short-term memory deteriorates but his long-term memory remains crystal clear, he will be trapped in those hellish memories. And then there are the soldiers today, who are in a hot, alien country, enduring conditions we can't even imagine for a cause that a good part of this country thinks is false and unworthy -- how hard must that be? My husband was gone last week and will be gone Monday for two weeks, and it's hard. But I don't have to worry that he's going to get shot or run afoul of an improvised explosive device while I try to run a household alone for months at a time. So yeah, I'm going to remember today. And try to stop whining.


Mary Lynn said…
I'd written a post last night that was about Jamie being all cute and silly. Then when I went to schedule it to appear this morning I realised it was going to be Remembrance Day. Ack! That just won't do.

It is hard to fathom what soldiers endure. I'm thankful that I'm unable to.
Nicole said…
Thanks for posting this. You know, I never think about soldiers having good times or seeing the world, but it's true.

This is a really good post, lots to think about.
Gwen said…
Lovely. Touching. Perfect for today.
Anonymous said…
My own grandfather contracted a very serious case of pneumonia before he deployed. As a result, he spent the war in a radio tower in Glasgow. To hear him tell it, the war was all drinking in Scottish pubs.

And yet, he went. And I hope like hell that my kids will never have to. So I remember him today, and those like him who answered the call and did their duty.

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