Poppies.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

Usually during the days leading up to Memorial Day I buy a fake poppy flower from the veterans who sit outside the grocery store. Mum always gets one to remember her family and friends who defended our country in many wars. Now I buy them to remember my family and friends.

This Memorial Day was a little different … it came and went as most days do around here. I took a few moments early in the morning to think about what the day would hold for my family and friends back home, but I did not buy a poppy flower. I missed it.

Sometimes when I miss little things from home, I can turn a corner and come face to face with something that reminds me a little bit of that thing. Today was no different. I have enjoyed the thought of these poppies since I saw them this morning …