I was on my balcony at 6am this morning, sharing the time, if not the space, with others who chose to remember those who fought and gave up their lives. I have no doubt that many, if unable to physically make it out to their driveways or balconies, did so in their minds and hearts.
This year, of course, has been different. I was not alone this morning, witnessing many around me making the effort to be in their driveways, lighting candles, remembering.
But what does the event really mean to me personally? I admit to feeling disconnection over the years to the event and came to realize it’s (wars, loss of life, fighting on ‘a’ side, festering wounds, loss of limbs, fear, forever irrevocably divergent, numbness and on and on) something I think about often.
But this year I felt a connection to the actual event and came to the conclusion that I’m either contrary, have some form of weird reactance, or simply wanted to show my support.
Whatever it was that motivated me to get outside and be visible I’m going to do what I usually do on this day.
Have a thoughtful day. #AnzacAtHome
Featured image from CanStockPhoto@MillefloreImages
Biscuit image from CanStockPhoto@artlana