Remembering

Without stories, how would we remember anything? Before stories were written down, every single culture in the world kept memory alive through oral tradition, telling stories around the fire at night. Two of the most vital and primal things in our lives have always been: the warmth of a fire and our need to tell the stories that matter to us.

Stories entertain, they make us laugh, sometimes cry, but most of all a good story teaches us something. Even if it’s a very simple tale, like a conversation between two people, we always walk away having learned something, at least about the person we’ve been talking to, if not about ourselves.

I remember hearing stories about the War from my Grandparents. Grandpa stayed home to work on the family farm, feeding the troops. Grandma was in the Women’s Land Army. It was a tough time, but I always recall how proudly they both spoke of their involvement. One of my favourite stories comes from that era.  You see, my Grandparents were brought together by the war. Grandma used to cycle past Home Farm, where my Grandfather grew up, every day to and from her job during the war. His eye, caught by the pretty young woman on the bike, Grandpa started waiting for her to pass as he worked in the fields. Romance sparked and the rest is our family story.

Both my grandparents survived the war, as did my father’s father, who was in the Navy. But many, many loved ones were lost so that we could enjoy the freedoms we now take for granted. So today’s story is their’s. One of bravery, courage in the face so much horror, pride and a fierce determination to provide a better world for their children to live in. If we pay attention to these important stories, then it’s less easy for us to get lost along the way and make the same mistakes that cause others to lay down their lives to protect us against the tragedy of war.

So today, I am remembering, lest we forget.

(I just learned that Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, who wrote “In Flanders Fields” was from Guelph, which is where most of my relatives live. A local boy…)