My Anzac Day.Today, we did not go to the dawn service, and for the first time in years, I didn't watch the march. We took advantage of the beautiful day to start digging up the jacaranda stump that keeps sprouting in the backyard.
I wielded an axe for the first time in my life, and didn't remove any of my limbs, or Magilla's.
We watched the news, and as ever, the coverage of the services and the march brought me to tears. The only explanation I had for Magilla was that "Today is Anzac Day, and it makes me cry."
I could not explain the Great War or those following to an almost four-year-old. I could not explain the wars going on today around the world.
When she's a bit older, I'll take her to a dawn service. I'll take her to watch her Pop march with his Vietnam Vet mates and we'll have lunch with them and enjoy the day.
And I'll cry again, as I always do.
God Bless our fallen men and women, and those who are serving now. Please keep them safe.
For The Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.