Anzac Day 24’

Pop in his war time regalia

As I took the recycling out I thought of my grandfather - the one known as a war hero.

War hero. Hm. The name is sung as if we had something to celebrate. Commemorate.

As a 30 year old I remember writing a post berating this day - the way we used it as a nationalist platform - a political day.

But it is also real. Nations intended to take our nation, men were rallied by governments and great numbers of lives were lost. Perhaps because I have just finished reading The Lord of the Rings - that I have another appreciation for the evil that rises intent on taking ultimate power - as Hitler did, as Mussolini, and Nero, as Sauron.

War is always with us. And I don’t mind so much today that I and many other families remember their members who went off to war to protect our borders against a marauding foe - it is just part of our history and most countries histories. I am grateful that we are free and not enslaved by another. And, war itself is evil. So much destruction. Just like my inner world of heartbreak and pain in the darkness of last nights moon. In that darkness when the heart eating woe is upon me I am in some free fall of self destruction.

I pull all the ends of my lands together and look at my life through loathsome eyes. It doesn’t tell well - down, down goes my heart and my soul is crushed and mutilated - ask only for mercy - for the gentleness of a good mother or god to get me through those nights. And so, yes war and its ravages come from inside us. All the parts that don’t get tended to that are in pain - seeking any way to ease that pain.

I nod my thanks to you Pop - and to everything we gained and lost together.