Remembrance. I grew up in a small flat that had been built just before world war II and still bore the holes from enemy bullets. From my window, I could see a grassy square knoll; a long forgotten bunker that had been concealed from the enemy but now concealed little children as they played hide and seek. We had a lovely elderly Caucasian neighbor we called Mum. Our real mom would make us spend time with her, just so that Mum wouldnt be alone all the time. I actually loved going there because I was always fascinated by the war memorabilia she repeatedly showed with pride. Her familys ration books; her husbands soldier card; black and white photos of smiling faces amongst rubble and debris. Triumph over the evil of poverty, starvation and shelling that destroyed so much of her beautiful London. Poppy Day held a lot of significance to me when I was growing up in London. It reminded me of Mums husband and two sons who had bravely given up their lives so that others could live without being told how to. It reminded me of the bunker in the Imperial War Museum with its musty damp smell and screaming missiles sounding overhead. I didnt envy the lives of the people that had to suffer through the war but I admired them for getting through it, whichever way they did. A poppy for me represents those memories. Not just mine, not just Mums; but the memories of all those who lost loved ones. The memories of those who died to give people the freedom to say what they wanted and dress the way they wanted. My brave soldiers gave up their freedom to live so that others did not have to give up their liberties. That includes the liberty to express opinions and though I dont agree with people not supporting the poppy, I realize that if I dont allow their opinions then the brave soldiers died in vain. Their cause was to protect the rights of everyone to live the way they chose. They didnt want England to become a dictatorship, a few telling the masses how they were supposed to speak, dress or think. I dont have to agree with others but thanks to all the brave soldiers of all the wars, I have learned that freedom is the most precious gift they could leave us. Freedom to believe without coercion or removal is true freedom.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Oct 2013 14:33:45 +0000
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