Remembrance Day just passed. Lyndon and I took the boys into town for the annual service. Usually the service is at the Cathedral but when we drove by there, there were no vehicles. We found the crowd at the French Cultural Centre.

The service was typical. Some speeches, some readings, a prayer. Then we all walked out to watch the laying of the wreaths. This is my favourite part of the ceremony. I love to listen to the bugle ringing out at 11:00 am. The flags flying at half-mast, the veterans standing on shaky legs to salute their fallen comrades. It chokes me up every year.

We try to help the boys understand, to give them a glimpse of what it is all about. My heart, now, is always with the mothers who stood and watched as their boys marched off, not knowing if they would be back. Incomprehensible, really.