Greetings from Spockgirl Musings, where logic rules, but the frailties of
human nature, genetic inadequacies and hormonal imbalances wreak havoc.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Honour and Respect...

Not many things bother me. Not many things bother me for longer than a day. Most things are simply acknowledged and/or accepted as things that I have no control over. Something is still bothering me from yesterday morning.

I had bundled up in a silk turtleneck undershirt, a warm fleecy turtleneck, jeans, long boots, wool coat, fleece hat, and scarf as well as mittens, and walked over to the park. It was briskly cold, but not bitterly so. I found a place next to a tall tree, in the back, away from the crowd that had gathered closer to the street. People still arriving and walking through even as the parade had begun to make its way down the street, the high school band playing a song that has now slipped from my memory, the RCMP in red serge and the small remaining contingent of wartime vets. I was not close enough to see them, but that is just the way it is. The piper didn't play as long as usual and he made a noticeable mistake, the bugler made a mistake, there was a problem with the PA system, but these things happen. That is just the way it is sometimes. At some point after the service had begun, two women, one in her 30s or 40s, the other maybe 60 or 70ish, walked past me, up the sidewalk, a little closer to the gathering ahead. They began talking. They were talking during the playing of the Last Post. They were still talking during the two minutes of silence. They were talking until they parted ways and one of the women walked up towards the gathering, but did not go to it, turned down the other sidewalk to leave the park. She did not attend the rest of the service. Maybe the younger woman had just brought her kids to play at the park playground. Maybe the older woman was just out for a Sunday stroll. I have been trying to think of a reason... I have been trying to think of an excuse for their lack of respect... and I can find none.

Near the end of the service, the minister announced the names of the Honour Guard, four local cadets... I recognized the names, I know a couple of them, and I felt proud of them. Both my niece and nephew and one of my pretend nieces, were part of the high school band that played in the parade. I am proud of them too. Even as teenagers, they may not fully understand the meaning of the day or of the service, but I hope someday they will grasp its importance, and that of Honour and Respect.

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