Rememberance Day hits pretty close to home for me. My grandfather and his father-in-law before him both served during wartime. (My great-grandpa had a bullet scar on his butt cheek to prove it. Not that I would have asked him to...) My friend spent almost a year in Afganistan during the most violent part of that conflict. It took him months to adjust to regular life, or as much adjustment as he'll ever be able to have. I deeply respect what they and so many others have given to the rest of us. With that in mind, you'd think I'd be freaking out on my twitchy little man. I did my best to keep him quiet and calm, but I didn't take his outbursts as show of disrespect. I actually felt the opposite.
The fact that, at that moment, my son's biggest problem in life was that he just dropped his toy was a wonderful thing. He didn't understand why we were all quietly gathered in that school gym. He doesn't know what war is, or it's terrible costs. He's never seen anyone get shot, unless he walks in while we watch a grown up show. Everyone he can ever remember meeting lives in peace. I can't describe how I felt when I realized what a gift that truly is.
I know the world's far from completely peaceful. And yeah, lately, even Canada hasn't escaped the threat of terror. (RIP to our two home soil casualties.) But we live in an era that knows greater peace than any time before, thanks to the sacrifices of thousands of men and women. I know it's not nearly enough, but thank you. I'll never forget.
