Sunday, June 22, 2014
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
The weather might have turned distinctly Mediterranean, the sun might be shining on Scotland but despite the light that old familiar darkness has come creeping in.
I can hold it at bay, I need to withdraw further than I already am (isolation is luckily a talent many only children possess). I shall sit in the sunshine, absorb that good Vitamin D while avoiding the burn. Quietly, assuredly I will hold my own counsel as I always do.
The flavour of this darkness is irrelevance, I feel irrelevant to all except my sons. Well I am irrelevant to all except my sons but the trick is to remember that. I keep my head and heart focused on that one thing that keeps me from being overwhelmed and swallowed completely. I don't matter to anyone but them and that has to be enough.
Sunday, June 08, 2014
Each boy is asked to talk for 30 seconds on one subject so if someone says ticket all you are allowed to talk about is tickets. It's harder than it sounds.
One lad was given the subject "trees" and came up with this
"You can make trees from wood..."
Indeed you can. Son 2of2 doesn't get why I find that so funny but maybe it's just my weird sense of humour.
Saturday, June 07, 2014
Yesterday the Western world took pause to reflect on the 70th anniversary of D-day. It was, considering the way of the world now, a respectful event. In particular the memorial held in France.
I particularly loved the report than an 89-year-old man, told by his care home staff he couldn't go, snuck out and went anyway. Good on you mate and shame on the care home staff forgetting they are dealing with adults who would rather risk an all important journey like this than sit vegetating.
Read today that the actor who played the original Scotty in Star Trek was shot six times, losing part of a finger in the process. He was part of the Canadian forces. There have been so many humbling yet amazing stories from heroes who never thought of themselves as anything other than ordinary young men doing their duty.
My own thoughts yesterday - the men known cruelly as the D-Day Dodgers. Fighting an equally brutal battle in Italy. I think my dad must have been stationed in Bari with the RAF at the time. He had plenty of tales of his own, rarely recounted but devastating when he did, therefore I know the places he went (Burma, North Africa, Italy) but the only one I could possibly put a date on was that he was in North Africa when the Italians capitulated.
He recalled lying in a ditch with some of the crew while a large part of the Italian army stationed there marched past. They didn't know the Italians were going to surrender so spent the whole time thinking that if they were found that would be it. To experience such things as a teenager and then a young man - he was only five years older than my sons are now when he signed up.