reflections

(from Awapuni Nurseries)

I was up so early, outside for a few minutes silence, for Anzac Day. Especially poignant given that there can be no dawn service for it, due to The Lockdown.

It also seems strange, not to be wearing a red poppy to commemorate it.

When I was very young, our family went to visit Mum's mum, Nanna. We drove along a small dirt road with a large field of beautiful poppies either side. Fields of flowers. Nanna was a market gardener at the time. As we slowly drove along the narrow "road", a small smiling figure seemed to rise up from the flowers. It was Nanna, busy working. A beautiful memory, forever etched in my mind.

My grandparent's farm is now suburbia. Whenever I've driven through the area, I remember: fields of poppies, and Nanna's lovely smile.

Years later, as a young child, I remember my first visit to Auckland's War Memorial Museum. Actually, prior to this, I could see the Museum over the Harbour, from Bayswater and Devonport. I didn't know what it was, but figured in my very young mind, that it must be London over that water, and that it was a Palace, where the Queen lived. 

On that first visit, and so many after, I would scan the names of the fallen servicemen, looking for family. It always seemed the right and reverent thing to do. And silently, in my heart, pay my respects to the fallen.

My Scottish stepfather lied as a fifteen year old to join the Army, and went to war. Just a child. World War Two. How can we possibly ever imagine that? 

And I was married, decades ago, to a veteran from South East Asia jungle warfare. Of course, I was too young to understand anything. But I think of him today, knowing that he wishes he was at The Dawn Service for Anzac Day.

Today we give many thanks to those who served.

he maha nga mihi ki nga kaimahi kua hinga