1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back to Lisa-Jo and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
Ready? The prompt is Quiet…
These memories of times gone past are not my own. They have been whispered through the years, talked about in hushed moments of sadness, tinged with regret and a sense of home-sickness. An aunt, a great-aunt to be precise, perished, counted as one of the first female casualties of the Second World War. A grandmother, so young she barely knew her sister, tells bits and pieces, and the story has become legend of sorts. Hints of conspiracy spice it up a little, but the story is the same every time. She dies.
She dies in service to her country.
Like so many others.
This freedom thing is an easy gift to take for granted. It’s easy to look around and say how hard things are right now in the world, as many of us never lived through anything harder. In fact the few who did live through it, still alive today, have very little to say about the details, the horrors, the hardship. The stories are fading away, becoming more like ghosts than memories.
The tragedy of it all is that the memories of those who lived it have been etched in unspeakable horror to the point where most find it difficult to share, to open up. They don’t want to remember, or they’ve sealed the graphic history up behind a wall.
I long for those stories. I never want to forget. Sometimes peace comes at a price. A heavy price, to be sure.
And so we take a moment at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day in the eleventh month to quietly remember.
Not to do a disservice to those currently serving our country or who have done so in a time of war more recent than WW I and II, I respect the sacrifice and am grateful that there are people willing to serve. Thank you.
