I don't think I can say anything that I haven't said before in regards to ANZAC day.*
I attended a ceremony at the school this morning and, once again, they did a stellar job. The mountain where the girls' school is situated is all about community so it is no wonder then that this community has their own fallen soldiers to mourn. And that the surviving soldiers are invited to attend the school's ceremony.
The feeling this year was no different to the past two years. Except in some aspects I am no longer an outsider looking in. I am feeling more and more like I belong up there. It is home.
And today as I watched Punk Chic lay a wreath with her classmates, I shed a little tear and wished I had thought sooner to persuade my grandfather to join us. To show him that his great grandchildren are still being taught the meaning of ANZAC and that his story will live on in them and they will know.
They will know what it means to be Australian. They will know freedom. But they will also know that for freedom, there was loss. And they will remember.
CJ is taking Punk Chic to her first dawn service in the early hours of the morning. He and Miss Tween have been going for the past four years or so and now that Punk Chic is old enough to really understand and want to be included, she will be attending as well. And in a couple of years it will be Gumboot Girl's turn. And we will go as a family.
But, for now, the school ceremony is my time to remember and be thankful for those who fought for our country. For us. For our freedom!
Lest we forget.
*You could go here though and check out Claire's post for the ANZACs. ;)