So it's that time of year again when we look back and remember those who gave so much to enable us to be where we are today. As I watched the Memorial Service yesterday, I had a vivid flashback to my days as a child when Dad used to make us watch the same service. On a black and white TV, I recollect grainy images of old men and women walking solemnly past the Cenotaph, and Dad telling me that I had to be very grateful because they had been through so much to give us freedom... and I didn't really know what he meant by freedom, just knew it must be important.
Dad was in the Navy at the end of WW2 and spoke, with great warmth, of the comradeship and spirit that was so much a part of that time. My brother was in the RAF and posted to Ireland and he also refers to the sense of working together and the knowledge that life was precious - to all involved.
And another memory came back, of a man called Alan, who ran the sweetshop in Southport near my Grandma's. His face was dreadfully scarred from burns he had suffered in a fighter plane crash in WW2. We kids were scared of him because he looked so different - and yet he was such a kind man and it must have been very difficult for him to be always having people shy away when they saw his injuries.
And somehow just remembering all this was sort of sad and yet reassuring. The past has a lot to share with us. In these days of fast food, instant gratification and the quick fix - it is worth remembering that some things are worth fighting for, take longer to achieve, but are so worth it all in the long run.
What is worth fighting for in your life?
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