The discussion continued around Veterans' Day. Is it a celebration or a commemoration? In England, we always commemorated on the day set aside, which is known as 'Remembrance Sunday'. In the USA, the veterans are, I suppose, 'celebrated', and to that end, saying "Happy Veterans' Day", is acceptable.
I continued to wear my poppy 'with pride', and pinned it on every day. Two people asked me, "Why", in different ways. My husband, who sees this red symbol for a few days each year, said to me, "What is the purpose of the flower"? I did not quote the poem, "In Flanders fields", but told him that it was a symbol of remembrance. "Do you have Veterans' Day in England?" he asked. Quite sure that we had the conversation before, I resisted the usual, sarcastic quip, of "Ours was the original", which is usually followed by, "Yes, but we came in and won it for you", which is always succeeded by, "Only when it was nearly over!" and so on, and so forth. Obviously, the banter is banter, and we both have nothing but the utmost respect for the military, on both sides of the pond! The second person to ask was a neighbour, who had been to England a couple of times, the most recent visit being in August, and had seen various memorials around the country, with the wreaths of poppies. I told her that I wore it as a commemoration, but in retrospect, it was a celebration of the freedom that was given by those we commemorate. It was only later did I find out that the poppy was not actually a symbol created by the British Legion, but one adopted after a female professor of the University of Georgia was (apparently) inspired by the words of a poem, written by a Canadian, "In Flanders Fields the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row".
Due to Veterans Day being on a Saturday, our local county courthouse was closed on Friday. This meant that our office was technically closed and the staff were allowed a day off! I did offer to fore go my extra holiday, but Dana insisted that I go and 'enjoy' myself. "Is it really a day for celebration?" I asked, although to
'enjoy' is not necessarily tantamount to 'celebrate'.
Friday morning started the same as most other mornings in my household, with Dana going into the office early, and me taking care of whatever routine job was set out for that particular day. As usual, I got started on something that was not 'routine', and ended up having little time to actually finish the dedicated task. However, it was indicative of the freedom I have due to those for whom the poppy is a symbol. I do not have to stick to a routine, I thankfully have the ability to chose to do so!
Traveling across from one county to the next, my red car rattled along the road, and safely delivered me to the front door of my daughter, whom was waiting with a cup of coffee. We had planned to go and see the film, "Goodbye Christopher Robin", but it was only showing at three cinemas, none of which were in the vicinity of either of our homes. Instead, we thought we would travel around the warehouses that we usually frequent on a Saturday, but those in a different town.
Costco by any other name, as the poet said, (although I think he used the term, 'a rose',) would smell as sweet! The aroma of samples, especially entering the Yuletide season (which is upon us with a vengeance,) drift through the air devoid of subtlety. Gingerbread, and cinnamon sticks to the clothing, as ale and cigarettes would in a beer garden! "Happy Veteran's Day", said the elf from behind the counter, handing out pancakes with a hint of maple syrup and an abundance of mixed spice. "Is it happy?", both my daughter and I responded. Of course, the freedom to dress like an elf and offer small pieces of fried batter soaked in sugary goop, would imply that it is, indeed, very happy! I was rather inclined to ask, "If it is Veteran's Day, why are you dressed for Christmas?" but chose not to get into a deep and meaningful discussion with a person wearing green striped tights, and a leaf for a hat! The author of 'A rose by any other name', would have been able to cast this vendor in another of his plays, although we were as far away from Midsummer on this particular continent, as we could be!
The outlet mall was not busy. Despite the courthouses in both counties, (Samantha's home county and mine,) schools were not closed, due to the actual day being on Saturday. There were 'Veteran Day' sales, and I am sure bargains were to be had, but I was in search of a new hand mixer, and Walmart did not carry the model I was wanting. I was disappointed, at first, that the store we visited did not have the make I was looking for, but soon recovered, realising that the choice on the shelves was vast, and a choice could be made. I was having rather a philosophical day, and I had decided to embrace my freedom, and the ability to make choices based upon those who have died so I could have liberty. I bought another brand, one which I have bought before, and one which is considered to be of reasonable quality.
After our successful trip to the outlet mall, we headed back to another warehouse. 'Sams' by any other name, would smell as sweet. Sugar and spice, and all things nice, were on sale as well as an array of lights, trees, statues and other things that divert from even the most diverse of 'seasonal' objects. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Goodness only knows. However, whatever the object, it did commemorate the fact that those who gave us freedom to celebrate the day, (this side of the pond,) fought (and I quote) "The never ending battle for truth, justice and the American way". My poppy, despite the origin, commemorates the same on the other side of the Atlantic. We all have the freedom to have an inflatable 'Santa' flying a helicopter, with a dog atop, and not a reindeer in sight!
I came home, after enjoying my complimentary 'festive' Starbucks beverage, (I chose caramel, as opposed to gingerbread and cinnamon,) with a detour to Walmart. "Where can I find the space-saver bags, please?", I asked the assistant. She looked at me with the 'deer in the headlights' vagueness, and shrugged her shoulders. "What does she want?", asked another assistant, as if I was not there. "Space saver bags", I repeated, and explained that I was looking for the storage bags that were filled, and then had the air sucked out of them, with a vacuum. The first lady shrugged again, the second lady pointed to the handbag section. I went in search, as I was sure they carried the item. A third lady, presumably noticing my 'deer in the headlights' vagueness, knew exactly to what I was referring. and took me to them. As I returned to the check out, I was quite indignant. I was going to show the other two women the bags and let them know that they do stock them, and where to find them. However, my eye caught the top of the leaf on my poppy, which had curled inward. Freedom! My attitude was not the same as when I entered the outlet mall. My philosophy was waining, and I was not celebrating, nor commemorating those who had given their lives so that I could have liberty. "These are what I was talking about", I said with a smile. "You can find them by the hangers, if anyone else needs to know". A discussion ensured, with laughter and merriment, fit for any festivity, and the two ladies were most thankful for my coming back to let them see what it was I was trying to explain. I felt better for the experience, and they did not have to suffer the condemnation of a contentious woman!
Once home, I set about unloading boxes of stuffed animals, which had been moved from place to place since my arrival in Texas, and by the time Dana arrived home, I felt as if I had also completed a days work!
Our Saturday was a usual Saturday. "Happy Veterans' Day", said the reindeer with an elf's attire. "Is it a celebration, or a commemoration?" we asked, once again. The reindeer in elf's clothing was not moved, and continued to announce her salutation to all that entered the store. She was giving away pieces of cake, so we did not hinder the experience.
Dana and I went out for dinner, and upon responding that he was indeed a veteran, was thanked for his service. "Ten years army", he said, when the young girl asked him, "Which branch?" She asked where he was stationed, and the conversation ensued with him telling her that he came from a very military family. I sat wearing my poppy with pride, smiling at the remembrance of my grandfather, who was in, or around Flanders fields! We did not partake of the specific 'free' meal for veterans, as we had the freedom to decline, but as my husband did serve his country, and a substantial discount was applied to our bill. "I was not involved in active combat", he said to me, as we were eating. I told him that without the 'air traffic controllers', the planes could not go to where they needed to be, and those that were involved in 'armed combat' would not be afforded that benefit. He concurred and accepted the generosity of the establishment with graciousness, and I beamed with pride.
The Queen stood on the balcony overlooking Whitehall this morning, as her children and grandchildren placed wreaths at the cenotaph, to commemorate those who gave the United Kingdom of Great Britain their freedom. I wore my poppy with pride, and enjoyed the freedom of going out for breakfast, and then a walk around my complex. It is too cold to swim today, although there is nothing stopping me, should I wish to take on the elements!
I celebrate my freedom, and commemorate those who gave it to me. Perhaps that is the way to look at it. As the poet says, "If ye break faith with us who die, we shall not sleep, though poppies grow in Flanders fields". Our freedom was paid for with a price, and I am able to sit here and write about the frivolity in which I partake, whist those who lay in Flanders fields, who gave me the ability to do this without so much as a 'by your leave', will never be able to read ........... another story!
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