We hear the term repeated throughout the day. Until I had children of my own I don’t think I really understood what it meant.
Today I’m wearing a medal called the Distinguished Flying Cross which was awarded to my Grandmother’s brother, Edward George Wicky. I’m told by my own mother it’s the first time it’s been worn in over 30 years.
Uncle Edward was killed in a plane crash in England when returning from a successful mission towards the end of WW2 in 1945. My Great-Grandmother lost her 22 year old son that day and was distraught.
I think she’d be proud that I’m telling the story of her son’s bravery and sacrifice today.
We all have our own stories today, of our own families, or we’re remembering or honouring others families, and their stories of sacrifice and service.
Remembering these stories, or listening to others tell them, creates a legacy that is so important if we’re to truly appreciate the freedom we have.
I hope that by telling the story of my Uncle Edward every year, my own two year old son, also named Edward, might grow up with a perspective of gratitude and respect and ultimately pass that legacy on to his own children.
Today simply, my hope is that you’ll share your stories with your friends and family, or listen to others share theirs, as we remember those who gave their service and sacrificed their lives for us.
Lest we forget.