Search Results for: remembrance

The Angel Tree

5

January 14, 2012

This week, we went to our local cemetery in Sebastian’s honour – for the first time.

We were told by a friend (thank you, C) about something called the Angel Tree, in the children’s section of the Memorial Garden. Bereaved parents were invited to put an ornament on the tree in remembrance of a deceased child, and after today, all the decorations will be removed and buried there.

I bought four little wooden cutouts, two hearts and two stars, and Sean and I got our inner artists out to paint them. We made one for the Angel Tree and one for our own Christmas tree.

We had hoped to visit the cemetery earlier in the holidays, and earlier in the day, but you know how the Christmas season is – way too busy, and vacation (if you’re lucky enough to have it) slips away much too fast. We went on Wednesday after school, but left later than we meant to, and the daylight faded as we crossed town to get to the cemetery. It was pretty dark when we arrived.

I’ve spent some time in cemeteries before, and they can be lovely, peaceful, beautiful places. This experience was tranquil and quiet, but bleak. I was taken aback to find that even though the Angel Tree was so tiny it only reached my midsection, it was not at all full. Our decoration joined only a few others. It’s possible some were removed earlier, if the tree got too full to hold more… or it’s possible not very many people knew about it. I hope it’s the former – not because I hope lots of parents have lost children, but because I know they have. (Sadly, the only information I could find about the Angel Tree was a short paragraph in the local free paper – I couldn’t even find anything on the cemetery’s own website.)

We don’t have a gravesite for Sebastian. We keep some of his ashes in our pendants, but we have not yet scattered the rest – we have plans for that for next July. We never really thought of a gravestone, simply because it’s not our style, but I can see how it would be comforting to have a permanent marker in such a historical, communal place.

It was sad to be in the Children’s Garden at nightfall, after Christmas. I mean, baby graves are sad at any time, but this was particularly melancholy. There wasn’t even any snow to light our way – it’s been a rather dark, snowless winter so far. Still, we found the children’s section easily, despite being unacquainted with the cemetery, because many of the graves had coloured lights on them. When we looked at them more closely, we found many had Christmas gifts as well. (Fortunately, it was not as dark as it looks in this picture.)

IMG 1154 225x300 The Angel Tree Continued…

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11 a.m., 11/11/11

6

November 11, 2011

I took a gamble and brought my kindergarten class to the Remembrance Day assembly today, just after 11 a.m. We had talked about it beforehand, especially the minute of silence, and I think they were excited to take the challenge. I told them I’d spoken to the principal about it, and we both believed they could handle it.

And they did. It was a long assembly, longer than advertised, but they did better than many of the older students. Even with the pep talk, I’d had my doubts… but they sat, watched, listened, stood when they were supposed to. I was amazed and so proud of them.

Remembrance Day is always a torn day for me. I am moved by the ceremonies, the songs, the children’s art, the silence. It has always made me emotional to think of the different ways people suffered, and still suffer, because of war. I am absolutely on board with remembrance as a device to promote peace. But as I’ve written before, I have major problems with indiscriminate support and awe of the armed forces, uncritical nationalism, vague and glorified talk about freedom, and what my husband (who was in the Canadian Armed Forces for several years) would call the “fetishization of the military”.

The Grade 6s this year made doves to be displayed in the gym for the assembly, along with lots of other remembrance-related art from different classes. Each dove was adorned with an original haiku by the student.

As a group, they are pretty astounding. They are full of vivid images that suggest that these students really pondered what it would have been like to participate in a World War.

I am including a few, without names, because, well… wow.

The sound of the dove
is absorbed by shouts and cries
Gunshots rattle towns

All alone, waiting
hear the silent leaves drifting
Miles away from home

not one will be fine
as soldier die mothers cry
the stars will not shine

Hear the bullets fly
Explosion in front of you
Thought that you would die

You’re in Germany
You see the surrender flag
cheer with your comrades

I am especially bowled over by that one line, written by a boy on the autism spectrum: “not one will be fine”. Such true words in five syllables. And no question about it, the mothers cry.

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Every gal has her limit

6

October 30, 2011

As I said in my last post, Sean and I were off on Friday because we had an appointment. It happened to be an appointment at an out-of-town hospital, to speak to a specialist about Sebastian’s autopsy.

In the past three-and-a-half months, I have discovered that, fortunately for me, I am not very susceptible to triggers. I can be around babies and pregnant women without freaking out. Several of my friends are pregnant; one of my co-workers is almost due with her second child, and another one had her first a few days ago; I just found out my best childhood friend is expecting for the first time. Overall, it doesn’t bother me – on the contrary, I am sincerely excited for them.

But it’s getting harder. I don’t know if it’s the change of seasons, or the fact that Sean and I have started talking about trying again… but it is starting to get to me. As I wrote two weeks ago on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, I am at the same time wishing and afraid to be pregnant. (I would have written about it here, but that day… I needed some anonymity.)

I have been avoiding this – admitting that I’m bothered, and even thinking about it. Most days, although Sebastian is always present in the lining of my thoughts, I am simply too busy to mourn. Most days, I feel pretty good, pretty normal.

On Friday morning as we headed to the hospital, I felt fine, unfazed. We had received a call from the clinic the day before, asking us to come at 11 instead of 12:30. We dropped E off with Grammie and Papa, and headed to the hospital, arriving ten minutes early for our appointment. I hadn’t realized we would be going to the Ob-Gyn clinic… but still – I was okay. I had my fascinating book about vegetables (MOTL) to distract me.

We waited and waited. And waited. By 11:30, I was antsy, but I knew clinics like these are busy and over-booked. At 11:45, I went to check with the receptionist just to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood about the timing. She double-checked and said we would be next when a room became available.

Then I watched three more people get called in. (Actually five – one was a family of three, including a chubby baby.) My annoyance suddenly shifted into emotional frustration and I found my eyes filling up. Continued…

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Wishing to Remember You

3

November 11, 2010

This is my grandpa.

phpja8z8FPM 227x300 Wishing to Remember You

His picture was one of dozens included in a slide show as part of the Remembrance Day assembly at school today – all relatives of people in our school community.

My grandpa was part of the 101st Airborne division for the American Allies during World War II, and parachuted into Normandy on D-Day. He also did art and learned exotic languages for fun and read a lot and collected interesting items. By all accounts, he was an extraordinary person.

He survived the war, but died when I was two. I wish he had had more years to spend with his wife and children – and grandchildren. I wish I could talk to him, or at least remember him. I’m glad some of you do.

***


 

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Remembrance

0

November 12, 2009

Just to reiterate… it’s November 11th.  And interestingly, it’s 11 pm as I begin this post.  (Definitely not the “last post” though – haha.  Sorry.  Not a joke.)

Oops, I didn’t mean to start off all irreverent, especially since this post is about Remembrance Day and how I take it very seriously.  I really do.  As a teacher, I make sure the kids have their poppies on before the assembly, and we talk about why we’re observing this day, and how important it is not to talk during the silence.  (If they forget and disrespect… they get a piece of my mind afterward.)

I remember discovering, in a conversation with a French acquaintance during my year in France, that November 11th is quite a joyous day.  Most of Europe celebrates finally being free – of course it’s joyous.  I remember explaining to this woman that in Canada (although I know Canadians must have whooped in exaltation upon realizing the Great War was over), it’s a day when we remember those who have died in war – thousands upon thousands dead, many different conflicts, and almost none of them were “ours”.

Shortly after that, I visited Vimy Ridge for the first time.  The agent at the train station, unaccustomed to printing tickets for Vimy, checked to make sure I hadn’t mistaken my destination.  “Are you sure?  You know there’s nothing in Vimy.”  Pause.  “Unless you’re Canadian.”  Bingo, monsieur.

That visit was one of the most powerfully moving experiences of my life.  Standing on that little piece of land that actually belongs to Canada, it felt so real.  I felt the weight of it.  The horror that is now cloaked in beauty after all these decades.

I could go on and on about Vimy Ridge, but that’s another post.  Suffice it to say I have profound respect for the sacrifices made during war.

I’m also a Quaker, a pacifist.  I know there are reasons why wars break out, and reasons why factions decide to resist government bodies, etc.  Lots of these reasons are extremely well-intentioned.  (I guess a reason can’t have intentions, but oh well.  It’s late.)  But ultimately, Quakers recognize that wars cause countless people to die in awful ways, and innumerable precious things to be completely destroyed.  War, overall, does not respect life or land or beauty or historical artifacts – it can’t afford to.  To me, this isn’t okay.

In the 1930s, there was a Women’s Guild in Britain who started wearing and distributing white poppies, similar to the red ones the Legion had begun distributing after WWI.  Most of these women had lost men they loved, and did not want to see history, with all its attending pain, repeat itself.  The white poppies were a symbol of peace, of hope that humanity could find better ways to deal with problems.  People would wear one along with their red poppy, to honour the people who made sacrifices, and as I see it, further honour them by not wishing that fate upon others.

I recently read an article quoting a man in a position of authority in the Legion here in Canada, getting up in arms (sorry, it just seems the best phrase to use) about the white poppies.  He said they disrespect the symbol of the red poppy, they besmirch (I’m paraphrasing) the intended purpose of the day, and most preposterously, they encroach upon the Legion’s trademark.  Seriously.  That’s just petty and bitter.

There are lots of people who come back from armed conflicts completely traumatized.  They come back full of conviction that war is bad.  They come back and can’t enjoy normal lives.  They come back disfigured.  They come back in a coffin.  And we’re not supposed to wish for an alternative??

A couple years ago, one of my Grade 4 students came to class one day and proudly showed me the yellow ribbon pinned to her shirt.  “It means ‘support our troops’,” she said, with an air of grown-up-ness.

“Hmm,” I said, “Does that mean support them to fight, or support them to come home?”

“Ummm,” she said, brow furrowing, “I don’t know.  I’ll have to ask my mom.”

You can see why I am uncomfortable with the phrase “Support Our Troops”.  I would like a phrase that conveys “I appreciate that our troops train hard and go to places of conflict and experience really scary things that I would never want to go through, and that most of them want to defend people in need; I understand that there are things very wrong in the world that need to be changed; I don’t want people, including soldiers, to die or suffer needlessly; I know that soldiers, while brave, are not higher beings, but are humans like the rest of us, who make mistakes – sometimes with their weapons; and I know that although we say our troops protect us and keep us safe, it is important not to make new enemies for ourselves through armed conflict, because that would achieve the opposite.”

I don’t think Support Our Troops covers it.  Any suggestions?

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