Lest We Forget:

I've experienced three other Remembrance (Veterans) Days in Oxford. I've written about one of them...about the beauty and simplicity of the poppies, about the importance in recording and remembering the sacrifices of those who give themselves to the preservation of Freedom. Two years on from that post, my need to express the importance of remembering (not just on an historical level) feels more potent now, more vital, especially after the deaths of the brave at Ft. Hood. Daily I pray for them, their families, my country, and those around the world in similar, painful circumstances.

As I age, the things which effect others ache more deeply in my own heart. It's strange. I feel a greater connection with humanity, with the world around me and I value this. But with membership in humanity comes a great responsibility: to respect others, to aid those in need whenever and however possible, to listen, to recall, to remember and preserve those things which will best serve those who follow us. This inherent recollection of the mortality of oneself and of the fallen is surprisingly peaceful. It implies a continuation of time, not a finality of life.

We have an amazing power, and I would argue a duty, to ensure that as many people who have lived will be remembered. I don't necessarily mean as individuals. I just mean that a record of humanity, as a whole, with our failings and triumphs, mistakes and successes, is a responsibility that all humans must share, not just historians. Understanding and acknowledging the past forces us to look beyond our own existence, above our own worries, and seek out a greater good, a more rewarding preservation of a moral and honorable society.

Yes, I am that idealistic, and no, I am not naive. Are we there? Does this Utopian society exist? Of course not. Could it? Could we be closer to it? I hope one day. And what brought this on? Why all of this chat in the wake of the days in which we remember some of our greatest failings as humanity? Just a week after we are reminded so cruelly that life is not fair? Because in that failing we also remember the greatest bravery, courage, love, and sacrifice. Some of the most wonderful aspects of the human spirit. And, my loves, it's not just remembering. It's action.

Today, on the eleventh day, of the eleventh month, at the eleventh hour, I saw again the collective warmth of the human spirit, when I stepped out of a cafe and on to Cornmarket Street as the bells rang. My step, on to the busiest street in Oxford, was the only sound. Hundreds of people, of all ages, stopped in their tracks and faced the bells, in the most moving act of remembrance and thanksgiving and communal understanding. For two minutes we stayed silent, unmoving. The buskers stopped playing their tunes. The newsmen stopped their call for the purchase of their wares. The shops turned off their music and dimmed their lights. And I? I lost myself for two minutes, caught up in the larger act of a people unwilling to sacrifice the memory of the struggles and the losses that we as humans have faced to time.

Time does not win. We do. But only if we act together.

Love and peace to all,
Elizabeth