A long time ago, a very long time ago I went out with a soldier. I was 17 , he was 22. he was young, I was younger...we had fun...we had lots of fun. He was tall, and handsome, oh how he was handsome, with eyes so blue they hurt to look at.
We lived a life of dates, alcoholic nights, moody music, manic grasping at life, trying to live every moment, to make each meaningful...it was not a long relationship, it was not love. Mostly it was lust and fun, and sex, and music, late nights and dancing.
But what makes me think about it today, like I do, every year, on this and one other day, always, without fail?
Is because he was one of those, those that we remember..."lest we forget"...not killed in a popular war, not a "just war' not open warfare, but a war none the less.
A war of attrition, a war of religion, politics, of beliefs, of terror.
A war of sonless mothers, fatherless children, a war of pain and loneliness, a pointless war, a war where both sides lost.
So on this day I remember, I remember for these reasons.
I remember because it was so pointless, so wasteful, the loss, his death, the space he left behind.
I remember because as a grown woman, a mother, a human, I mourn his lost potential, his future.
I remember because we should never forget.
As a teenager, we move on quickly, we leave behind our pain, I lived that life then, its all and nothing, black and white,right and wrong. Its how it should be when you are young. these things should not blight your life , your future, they should make you more compassionate, a better person for having lived through it, but they should not dictate the your future, they should be part of your past.
I say this, to remind myself really, I was not callous in my loss and short grief, I was young...but I do not forget.......R