There is something about this time of year that can make one reflect on the past. The daylight has a solemn hue, early morning mist alludes to uncertainty ahead. This may be more prominent this year, due to lockdown and restrictions due to the Covid pandemic.
As Remembrance Sunday is here once more, it seems we have much more to remember about how things used to be.
This year felt like plenty of tricks without treats. We couldn’t Remember the 5th of November (although there have been fireworks!). We can’t observe Remembrance Sunday.
As the days are drawing closer, I have somehow found myself looking forward to this event. Yet as I walk down the road, I barely see poppies on coats.
Standing near the crowded cenotaph, in the misty, freezing cold, with a child that’s barely old enough to realise the importance of the ceremony, tugging at my hand to go after waiting for the sombre event, suddenly sounds very appealing.
I like the quiet dignity associated with this day. It describes the calm after everything has settled, following tremendous events, yet tinged with melancholy, and yet hopefulness of things that will be. Maybe it’s the time of the year. Maybe it’s because this year we have much more to remember and long for.
We each have our own difficulties to overcome. Sometimes the subtle ones can be more challenging to deal with, as they don’t have an easy answer and tend to carry on.
We’re effectively going in what has been described as Lockdown 2.0 and frustrated we question, why do we do this?
Is it because it is the law? Is it because this decision has been made to protect us?
I’d like to think because we choose to Hope.
That we will buy the time to find a way out of this and go back to freely enjoying life.
I’d like to think that we do what we believe is for the best of our future.
The choices we make today will echo for days, months, years to come.
For my part, I’ll take the quiet walk in what I hope will be a cold, grey, appropriately solemn misty Sunday morning. And maybe observe the Cenotaph from a well isolated distance.