On Remembrance Sunday

“Lest we forget”

Perhaps fittingly for Remembrance Sunday, I’m in a reflective mood. Thinking back over the past week, when I have finally managed to share the story of my past year, the hugely cathartic effect this has had for me, and the wonderful comments I’ve received on what I have written. Thinking back over that year, and all that has happened – some of it very bad, and some of it incredibly good. And then, prompted by the media coverage, thinking about what Remembrance means to me. I was born in Dover eight years after the end of WWII and my childhood memories include constant reminders of the destruction caused by war: ruins where buildings had once been; areas with a strange, eerie silence in the midst of a bustling town; a museum which was a treasure trove of history going back as far as the first Roman landings right up to recent mementos of WWII.

This leaves me with overwhelming feelings of sadness at what the human race can do to itself and at the futility of war. It also leaves me with feelings of hope that, by continuing to remember those who have sacrificed themselves to enable us to live the lives we lead, we can continue to learn what matters most in life. By comparison, my recent problems seem very small, and I find it humbling that I can have been so affected when others are still living with reminders of such sacrifices, going right up to the present day and the seemingly daily reminders we get from yet another death in action.

So please, take time today and every day to think about someone you know who may need your support through times of trouble. Remember the living, too.

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