For today, tomorrow and yesterday – thank you!

Yesterday, just as every day, was a day to remember: to look at our past and think of those who died and fought for our future. And although yesterday was officially marked as Remembrance Day, we should still hold all those men and women who have died for our freedom in our hearts and thoughts.

To forget them would mean that we have forgotten how free we are in Canada. It is because of them that we are privileged to live in the beautiful country we call Canada.


In elementary school, it was never properly explained what Remembrance Day was. There was a moment of silence – a staple on November 11th – and a possible movie or video shown in the gym, but the magnitude of what the soldiers have done for us never fully hit me.

Every year, the week leading up to Remembrance Day the History channel screens small documentaries on WWI, WWII, and the Vietnam War. Suddenly I get a second chance to learn my country’s history, and learn of the men and women who served for Canada.

There is no old and out dated book in front of me to write an essay out of, there is no teacher grading my knowledge of the occurrences, but just simply me and those veterans who are brave enough to tell their story for anyone who will listen, so we can remember and never forget.

On the left is Cody's Grandfather, he fought in the second World War - and never spoke of what he saw, or experienced. We remember for all the veterans.  This is the only picture we have of him.

On the left is Cody’s Grandfather. He fought in WWII and never spoke of what he saw, or experienced. We remember for all the veterans.
This is the only picture we have of him.

Remembering is all they ask for – remembering, and never forgetting. It seems so simple, and yet there are many soldiers’ stories who will never be heard, there are those whose names have been forgotten, whose faces are distant.

For all those who have lost parents, grandparents, cousins, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends – thank you.

For those currently serving – thank you.

For those who will serve – thank you.

You have fought for and will fight for Canada, for our freedom!

Lest we forget.

~ Jacqui

It is so much more

When you’re younger, making your way through elementary school, then middle and on to high school, the weight of Remembrance Day does not fully register with most.

The events that took place are usually only understood as stories and dates that we rehearse until we remember them, able to recite them for our tests and presentations. We take pause to mark the day of November 11th with assemblies, moments of silence, the playing of the haunting hymns of the bagpipes and the reciting of In Flanders Fields.


But it is so much more.

Even through adulthood, some are still sheltered from the true meaning of the sacrifice made by those who choose to sacrifice self for country, sacrifice self for community, sacrifice self for generations of family that they may never meet.

Personally, the first time I feel I began to understand the weight of it from a third party perspective, was the reaction of the USA to the September 11th attacks when soldiers were stationed overseas. It made it somehow more real, more vivid. It was a war – whether agreed with or not – thankfully carried out off of home soil, taking place in my lifetime.

I remember understanding even more when a good friend of mine bravely told me he wanted to train and apply for the military. While I ran with him willingly to help him train for the physical portion of his exams, I remember thinking that I wouldn’t know what I would do if he was called to war in our lifetime, if something were to happen to him because of his chosen sacrifice.


That is what makes it so much more.

It’s the vow to country of the person who speaks it, but it is also the wife, the husband, the mother, the father, the grandparents, the children, the siblings, the friends that remain. It’s the unwavering determination of the soldier to serve and protect, but it is also the support of each person behind the soldier, waiting back home, sacrificing what most Canadians are beyond lucky to call normal, everyday life, while separated from the person they love.

When soldiers were finally allowed to start coming home after the initial wave of reaction to the September 11th attacks, I rememebr the videos that began to circulate online of soldiers surprising and reuniting with loved ones. Watching the realization of the moment light up in the faces of children, wives, husbands, partners and parents, I feel like I got it even more.

1st Brigade Combat Team Soldiers Return Home After Afghanistan Deployment

It is so very much more.

The tears that filled my eyes, the lump of gratitude that welled in my throat, the ache that resonated in my heart for those people, in the anticipation of being in one another’s arms again, I could only imagine what it would be like to be the person waiting for the return of a loved one. While I can speculate based on the loss of life I have experienced, and separation from a loved one for an extended period of time I have endured, I cannot with all of my might fathom in words, thoughts or emotions the supporting cast of that soldier’s life might be feeling.

It is so much more.

It is with hearts of thanks for the sacrifices made by the soldiers that have fought to gain and maintain the freedom we have in Canada, and the loved ones that so bravely stood and continue to stand by them that we reflect on this Remembrance Day.


As we pay homage to the troops of the past who sacrificed to secure the freedom of our country and to the brave men and women who fight for and prepare to protect it today, please be sure to pause, reflect, and give thanks for the sacrifices made for the freedoms we take for granted daily.

~ Toni

It is real

Soldiers, war, veterans, the military – all of these were abstract concepts growing up. They were pieces and parts of other people’s lives, other people’s histories, other people’s experiences.

Sure, our Pepere, our mother’s dad, served in the Navy. And yes, our Avô, our father’s dad served in the army. But that was ages ago, long before our parents were married and before any of us were twinkles in eyes (EW).

It wasn’t talked about in great detail. The sepia pictures of them as young men in uniform adorned shelves in their respective living rooms, certificates were brought out sometimes, but the idea, the concept, the reality never ever sunk in for me. It happened then to them. Such a long time ago, such a great distance ago.

In school, Remembrance Day was a time for us to reflect on the sacrifices of others who did heroic things in the name of our freedom that we enjoyed in the present day. History class was filled with complicated explanations of politics that lead to wars that lead to young men and women serving in capacities that are beyond understanding for someone like me who has never had to endure any sort of conflict of that scale. And literature was filled with imagery and emotion and recollection spun in story and portrayed again in a distanced sort of way. Out there, back then, not here, but for us. 

And then I met and fell in love with Ben and his family. His military family. The family where most of the men, the majority, the rule not the exception, had served in some capacity in the army. Overseas and here at home; in active duty and in the reserves; in the middle of a war zone far away and training troops a province away; in the past, now retired and presently, currently as I type; fathers and sons; cousins and brothers. It was no longer an abstract concept. It was real. It is real. 

Nathan - Military

Nathan and crew

When Ben and I got married, his brother-cousin, Nathan, was in the bridal party and almost had to be in his military dress for the ceremony because he may not have had time to get his tux before coming home from training for the wedding. Brother-cousin Olen trained troops in Manitoba and served in other capacities as a reservist. We attended Ben’s cousin, Albert, and his beautiful wife, Becky’s wedding on the military base where Albert was serving (they’re now in Alberta on another base serving in a new capacity). Cousin Chris served in Afghanistan. Both of Ben’s uncles have served and since retired from the military. Both Ben’s brother Todd and his cousin Alex survived basic training and worked as reservists. It is real. 

Albert - Military

Albert and crew

These are not small things, even though they didn’t make headlines and no one is in the middle of a war zone at this very moment. And beyond that there are men and women serving right now in various capacities, in various countries and regions and situations, trying to make a difference, fighting for freedoms that aren’t obviously in danger, helping people shore up against famine, disease, disaster, and political upheaval. Lending hands to the world and serving us at home, away from their families and their homes and their comfort. Dying and living in service. They have been, they are, they will be. And it is real.

Chris - Military

Chris and crew

Remembrance Day means something more for me now than it used to because I have faces and names to people fighting and fought, serving and served, but the thing is, it should have always meant something because for every troop and their family it is real. Even if you don’t agree with the battle being waged, the reasons for the serving, the government that sent them, or even the people that are being served, it is real. 

This year, every year, every day remember that somewhere someone is giving of themselves for a greater something and their loved ones are left behind, sacrificing along with them without them. And that they are not treading a new path. That they are walking in the shoes of all those who fought and served before them. And that they are lighting the way for future service.

It is real. And it is yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Pin your poppy and stand in silence tomorrow, but remember always.

~ Julia

P.S. I know that this video is a Christmas song, but the voices of the troops sending love home makes it real for me over and over again. I pray for the day that they’ll all be home, all at once. I know it’s a fool’s dream, a wish for heaven, essentially, but it’s in my naive heart all the same.