Poppies

I started the day reading and rereading the poem “In Flanders Fields”.

There were poppies drawn (and coloured- spelled that way on purpose red) on my note this morning.

As a child, Mr. Right, just like every other Canadian child (and two American home schooled boys) every year on November 11th at 11:11 am they would stop and pause and were silent. This silence is part of what formed them into the men they are.

We have a breathtaking painting hung above the piano. It is done by a Texas
Artist and it is the most glorious riot of outdoor poppies one could imagine.

The red poppy is the great equalizer. From royalty to grocery store box boys to the business man, to the housewife, to little boys “secretly” poking each other with the pin, today all will wear their poppy.

Mr. Right left the house this morning with a poppy pinned to his suit jacket. I saw it laying out last night by his cell phone and keys and coffee travel mug, so it wouldn’t be
forgotten and not worn.

We have our American flag flying. We also have a Canadian
flag flying. A week ago, we sent out our Veterans Day cards.

Tonight we will enjoy a formal dinner with the “good” china. We will remember.

No, Mr. Right and I will not be buying a mattress today during some Veterans Day sale.
No, Mr. Right and I will not be getting a “free” appetizer at a local eatery.
No, Mr. Right and I will not be getting a 10% off coupon by showing a military I.D. card.

Mr. Right served and retired after 22 years in the US Army.
Mr. Right’s brother served and retired after 27 years in the US Army.

My father, father in law, grandfathers and on and on the list goes, all served America and Canada.

Today, as every day, I will remember.

“In Flanders Fields the poppies blow…”

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