Remembrance

You shouldn't laugh at a remembrance service but there is usually something really funny.  It might be the Mayor's accent, or a child in the crowd saying something strange but today it was when the choir filed out of the church to stand next to the band and the chap in front banged his large cross on the bus stop.


But I have never been to a remembrance service that has affected me as deeply as today's did.  A man, in jeans and a crumpled military style jacket stood near me.  He was holding a wooden cross with a poppy and a florists card behind his back.  In his jacket pocket was a bottle of Jameson's Whiskey.  He stood to attention throughout the silence, with tears in his eyes.  Then he joined in to recite the following poem with passion.
"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

You are forever in our thoughts, we are forever in your debt."

When the service was at an end he walked to the memorial and found a slightly more private place at the back.  He knelt down and placed his cross in a plant pot.  From his pocket he took the Whiskey and a glass.  He poured himself a drink and then he poured another, which his poured into the plant pot.  

Here was a man who needed this day.  Who knows what his personal story is.  He may have lost a brother, father or he may have been in a conflict himself and bear scars deeper than any of us can imagine but at least he was able to share a drink today.