This ANZAC Day I don't feel profound, or even eloquent. Today I feel raw and sad and simply unable to convey half of that which I normally would.
The magnitude of everything that ANZAC stands for has overwhelmed me. I am laying in bed, tears dripping from the end of my nose onto my pillow, silently sobbing as I write, wishing for a flash or clarity, the thought striking me that I have no reason to feel this way.
I have never lost anyone to war.
I have never lived through war.
I have never know the hardship of war.
Yet I cry. I cry as if my heart were breaking.
Maybe because it is. It breaks for the millions of families who have suffered and do suffer. It breaks for the children who grow up never knowing one or both of their parents. It breaks for the displaced people who seek shelter over borders and across seas. It breaks for every soldier who can never fully explain what they did, why they did it or how it made them feel.
But mostly it breaks for selfish reasons. It breaks my heart for the little girl I used to be, sitting at my grandfathers feet, telling him my stories when now all I want to do is hear his.
R.I.P. Richard Arrowsmith (1903-1989), Leading Aircraftman, RAAF
For Previous ANZAC posts, please use the following links:ANZAC Day 2014
Not Fighting the Tears: ANZAC Day 2013
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