Lest We Forget
This morning my son and I were walking through the forest, with all the familiar sights, sounds and smells of this place. When we’d reached a clearing, two loud, lumbering, low to the ground war planes slowly flew directly over our heads. My son looked up in amazement, but I also noticed an unfamiliar fear in his eyes. Once the planes had finished their solute and turned back towards base camp, Cohen and I went on our way down the path, holding hands. Then Cohen looked up at me and said “Don’t worry, mommy.”
My great uncle was unthinkably young when he died in WWII. My great grandfather endured years in Dachau camp after the war awaiting trial. He had also been imprisoned in WWI. War brings with it immeasurable suffering for generations to come, no matter which side you fought for. How these stupid things can happen is just beyond me. Thinking of those who gave their lives for the sake and honour of the good fight.
I hope that Cohen will only know the joys of digging for dinosaur fossils, searching for the best sticks, learning the names and functions of foreign objects, and feeling the warmth and safety of his family and friends around him. I hope that, in his lifetime, he never knows war but for history books, documentaries, and wiki pages. Lest we forget.
