Remembrance Day

This day has always been an important one in my family. For as far back as I can remember, we have bundled up in as much clothing as possible and headed downtown for the service. Our first stop is always the Sergeant's War Memorial, and our "spot" is right below the retaining wall for the old B.I.S. (now a collection of swishy condominiums). We always met my Uncle John there for the first part of the service and then, my favourite part, followed the parade down to the War Memorial on the waterfront. We walk quickly down Cathedral St. and by the time we reach the bottom the parade has gone thru whatever machinations are required to get them in order and down Church Hill (I've never seen this, and in a "Great and Powerful Oz" kind of way, I never want to...I'm sure it's not as complex or as orderly as I imagine it is). We walk along Duckworth St. with the parade, looking for people we know, admiring the capes the nurses wear, trying to decipher what the different coloured berets mean and, and I swear we do this EVERY year, trying to figure out why the Bus Drivers march in the parade (I can never understand it, although I am glad they do and I would miss them if they stopped). Then we take our second customary spot near the big tree in Harbourside Park for the duration of the "real" service (the one that most people attend). In past years our group has been any combination of my Father, Mother, Uncle John, Aunt Mary, my sister, myself, my best friend Erin, and her boyfriend Jeff. That group has changed: my Uncle John passed away a few years ago (and I never notice his absence so much as when I see that he's not waiting below the B.I.S. for us), some years my Aunt Mary doesn't make it down, my Dad moved to Clarenville (although he still comes in most years), my Mom lives in Texas now, my sister is in Vancouver, and, this year, I am in Halifax. I feel comfortable in assuming that Erin and Jeff made it there this year, and I hope they stood in our spot!
I went to the service here in Halifax, as I did for the three years that I lived here, and it was nice...but not the same. There isn't a parade, and there's only one band (and they certainly ain't the CLB), and the service is much more religious than ours. Also, Nova Scotia doesn't have a provincial anthem, and no one recites "In Flanders Fields". They do, however, play "God Save The Queen" and that is my favourite part. No, I'm not a Monarchist, I don't even know the words to "God Save The Queen"...but I DO know the words to "The Canadian Kilted Yaksmen" and ever since I learned that song (in Grade 6!) and taught it to my little sister, we have quietly sang along every year. Well, this year, freezing my butt off alone in Halifax, while my sister (four hours later) did the same in Vancouver, I had no one to sing with, and I felt my homesickness more keenly than most days. I miss running into people, and the familiar service. I even miss the dude with the Hitler mustache that stands near us some years and drives my sister and I to distraction with curiosity (why does he have that mustache?! Why does he come to a War Memorial Service looking like that?!). I miss hearing the guns on Signal Hill (they fired them from Citadel Hill, but it wasn't the same "BOOM"), I miss looking up at the statues on our War Memorial, especially the Forestry Corp guy that my father always reminds us is for our Poppy. I miss the styrofoam cross that everyone sticks their poppy in (they don't do that here), and I miss them introducing the "Leftenant Governor" (they say "Loo-tenant" here, which I know is "right" but it's wrong as far as I'm concerned). I just miss St. John's in general and I can't wait to get back there. But, I'll be home soon!