The past 7 days or so have certainly not been very good for me.
My mother in Ontario has had some setbacks in her progress to recovery so Cheryl has gone to be with her for just over a week.
I would like to have been there with her but one of us should stay with the kids and I don't have any vacation time at work.
Cheryl has been there every day with Mom which seems to be helping Mom's spirits.
Today I was to be at work all day. The kids have a PD day (right before a holiday day, imagine that.)
I had a sitter all lined up. I just had to drop them off in the morning.
It was all set.
Then it all went bad last night.
Around 10:30 my stomach didn't feel quite right.
From then on I was up every 45 minutes or so. It hasn't been nice at all.
Then one of the kids started.
What an adventurous day we've had!
I don't care how I feel tomorrow though.
For the first time in my life I will get to speak at a Remembrance Day ceremony.
It will be at Victoria Hall in New Maryland.
I have this honour as a Village Councillor and I am tremendously proud.
Remembrance Day is one of the most important days to me. I think about relatives and strangers who left home to fight and offer their lives so that Canadians they would never meet could live freely.
This is the least we can do for them. I wish it could be more.
Upset stomachs didn't stop these brave souls from marching ahead. It won't stop me from doing the best public speaking of my life tomorrow.
My sons will be sitting in the front row seats watching me. I'll make them proud of their daddy.
Almost as proud as I am of our brave soldiers.
This poem is the best ever written in my mind.
It always puts a lump in my throat.
When The Last Post plays the tears are always in my eyes.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead.
Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.
- John McCrae
I hope to see you all tomorrow.