Freedom

I watch the Remembrance parade because I honour those soldiers who allowed me the freedom I have today. Each person, whether they fought in another country, or defending mine, each have my thanks.

As a child, I saw my dad’s pain, watching his companions march past the cenotaph. A survivor, he remembered those that weren’t so lucky and never forgot them.

He wrote a diary, but never revealed its pages.

Lost in a move, I never got to read it.

In the paratroopers; I often sat with him, asking him questions about his part in the second world war. He answered all of my childish curiosities. Looking back, the wounds he carried were fresh.

He lost so many friends and those he held dear.

My father-in-law was in the Green Howards; both men were the gentlest humans I ever knew.

My dad, a kind man, who helped me nurture an injured bird to fly again. His counterpart, with a love of tea, and never hitting his children because he believed he would hurt them.

We wear a poppy, not to remember war, but those who served.

Remberence of your bravery

freedom survived

thank you.