25.04.2020

Anzac Day and we woke before dawn. A nation in isolation lighting candles and wandering to the perimeter to honour. Alone together we observe in rare silence the sacrifice of those who came before us. Who endured war and hardship, trials by fire and unfathomable loss of life. We feel the thread of connection that tugs deep within and a few weeks in isolation pales by comparison.

Sacrifice is beyond what you must forego. It is from the Latin word to make something sacred. Honorable and noble and often thankless or unseen despite the great personal cost, sacrifice cherishes something more than itself. Made by those who went to war and those they left behind. Now we see it in our health carers, teachers and at supermarket check outs. It is humbling perspective.

Many of our ideas - that we assert as our rights as Australians - are ours to have and to hold because people before us fought wars for them, stories that steal our breath still. It is more than a blessing not to have been scorched by war or had to flee for our life: it is a privilege earned for us by others. That should rightfully engender compassion for those who have but shamefully we remain a nation who locks up those who seek refuge here.

After the second world war when London had been bombed beyond belief, Churchill invited all Brits to plant a victory garden. To seed a future that would be collectively regrown, that one day would blossom and bloom from the rubble of what remained.

Today at the going down of the sun I planted red poppies in my garden. To remember my grandfather Jack who fought for what he believed in and to honour the future these flowers will bloom in.

I wondered where our country will be then. Mused on what we are remembering and what we are currently turning a blind eye to through this. Lest we forget.

It's a question of values. So I ask you, are we in this thing alone or are we in it together?

~ From the 1998 movie, Pleasantville

Refrain sound familiar, darklings?

Pic of tonight's sunset and the barest sliver of the new moon from my balcony among the trees.

Words and pic c. Kerrie Basha 2020