ANZAC day...

Last week my dad called to see if we were going to the ANZAC day march in our local town. I hadn't planned on going, and there was a chance I would be doing a BBH party that day anyway. Dad told me that he thought this could be one of my poppy's last marches and that he thought it would be nice for Xavier to be there and to have 4 generations together. Adam had agreed to take the kids along himself if I ended up working. We all agreed that Xave probably doesn't see enough of my dad to feel comfortable going just with his poppy without mum or dad as backup.

Turn out I didn't end up working, so we all headed out with the rain threatening to the ANZAC march.

For the first year, Poppy was deemed old enough (90) to go in the jeep as opposed to walking, although I'm told it took some convincing to get him to accept this courtesy.

Poppy in the passenger seat

Because of this, the others (being my dad, uncle's, brother and cousin's) decided not to march and to instead watch from the sidelines. Xave was happy enough to sit on his poppy's shoulders and watch the cars, motorbikes and bands walk past.

Xave on his poppy's shoulders with my brother in the background.. hairy wilderbeast he is...


Poppy with the kids... if it wasn't for Xave there would be 3 bald heads together...

While it was nice seeing the men in the family bonding, as usual, every time I see poppy, it just reminds me again that my nan isn't here, and the tears once again prick at my eyes. It doesn't help that while we take the opportunity on ANZAC day to remember the fallen and those still in war zones around the world, as a mother its also a time to remember the other mothers who sons were lost to war, the wives who lost husbands and children who lost fathers. Thank god for sunglasses to hide behind I say.

Aden (my little brother), Poppy, Dad and Xave


Poppy, Stella and I

I hope every day that I never have to wave my son off to war.

Oh and the rain held off until the service was over. Hooray.