Memorials: Our way of saying what’s important, often after we should have acknowledged it.
I spend a lot of time trying to remember inane things like where my car keys are, whether I left a door unlocked before I left the house, and what my colleague wanted on his sandwich from Subway on the lunch run for which I volunteered (lettuce, tomatoes, olives, peppers and pickles – oh sure, now I remember). I can remember less inane things like my anniversary, my wife’s birthday, and the birthdays of my son and daughter.
This morning I went for a walk with my daughter and came across the Sappers’ Memorial at Garrison Crossing in Chilliwack, BC. As I wandered around the memorial park I realized how little time I spend remembering that people died for me. I mean, not me, specifically, but me and others like me. It was nice to walk around with my daughter and explain what this memorial means, why it was put up here. She gets it in a visceral way, telling me that she feels sad that these people had to die “that way”. She is also proud, in her nine year old way, of what they did.
I hope that I remember that moment, the moment when my daughter got it.