Today is Remembrance Day and I am feeling philosophical, as I reflect on the importance and the memories that are brought to the surface because of this day.
There are some days that I find to be of greater importance than others, Halloween is one, and Remembrance Day is another. I celebrate in a quiet manner, as I do with most things in my life, some may think I am just being lazy or antisocial. Maybe I am, but that’s alright. However, I do honor the memory of the people and events of these days. Today I will speak about Remembrance Day.
Remembrance Day always creates a wave of emotional memories for me. The wave will wash over me and I will be silent for moments, as I think on these things.
I look back on the significance of the whole event known as Remembrance Day and I will appreciate the involvement of my grandfathers and my uncles in the wars. I grew up with the images of war all around me and with the legacy and pride of coming from a family of soldiers. It is this legacy that has contributed to the man I have become. I think I am passionate about doing the right thing and will fight for it, because of the soldier imagery I had seen in my uncles and grandfather.
Also, I look back on my grandfather David Bird’s involvement in WW1. Even though I spent a lot of time with him in my first 12 years of life, I do not know his war story. He never shared that part of his life with me although I do know that it affected him greatly. He would have been about 18-21 years old during his stint in the war. More than anything I appreciate that he made it home, because when I think about. None of us (my brothers, sister, uncles, aunts, and cousins) would be here had he not made it back.
More than anything, Remembrance Day always reminds me of November 10, 1979. It is a day that I look upon with sadness. Two life changing events took place on that day, almost simultaneously.
Grandpa David Bird was traveling to (or from) a veterans gathering on the evening of Nov 10 and died in a car accident. To this day I do not know all the circumstances surrounding the accident and I probably don’t want to know. All I know is that he was not the only one who died that night in that accident. I think he was 86 and probably would have lived to be 100 had he made a better choice that night.
The other event took place in our home on Peepeekisis First Nation, the reserve. My brother John was a one year old boy and on the verge of taking his first step. In the days leading up to this event, John would just stand in one place for long periods of time, but would not actually take a step. It was a period of anticipation and encouragement for his brothers, one sister and parents, as we would try to coax John to take his step, but he would not and would sit down after a moment of standing.
Then on the evening of November 10, John stood up once again in the middle of the living room. I was sitting on the floor beside him and watched. He stood for a long time, or what seemed like a long time to me, and that is when he took his first steps. But, his first steps were unlike anyone’s first steps I have ever seen. He did not make a wobbly unsure first step as you might expect from a child making his initial walk. John stood there for awhile and its like a bolt of lightning hit him and he sprinted across the living room, about 10 steps in all, then he fell into the arms of his awaiting brother.
It is 29 years later, the wave rolls in, and I remember in silence.
