"Love is like a golden thread, which binds two hearts together.
And if this thread we do not break, then we'll be friends forever."
This is a little poem our Mum would write in cards and autograph books when we were kids. She would recite it to us. Her version of Roses are Red, maybe. I don’t know much about the origin of these lovely little words. She was born in Sussex, England in the 1940s. I imagine little classmates, or sisters, whispering this to each other. A vow of childhood friendship. Now it is a binding phrase that I use to remember her. A little chant that travels through time, tugs at my heart.
This week is always a tender week for me. November 11 being Remembrance Day, I get into a thoughtful mood. I went to the local memorial day service again this year, and stood with my city, honouring those who fought and thinking of those who are brave enough to done uniform now. I stood beside a woman I have known for about a year. Her son is in the military and she was just waiting to hear where he was headed to be posted. My teary eyes were for her and him and the world we live in. I have so many mixed feelings about military. But mostly it is personal. The world creates a need, and so I think that the services in memory are also a way for us to say Thank You to the brave souls who still fill the call.
I think often about how many lives are affected by war, by violence. The echos that reverberate through generations. The hurt, the hate, that is created in hearts that cannot heal. I feel the echos of the trauma that my parents lived with. My family feels it. I went back after the service and looked at the wreaths laid. I thought, we are here to remember so many. And now here we are again looking at a world damaged by violence. But for every message of hate and fear that I see posted today on social media, that there will also be a heart remembering to look my neighbours in the eye, with trust. And I will be saying silently to them, I know you. I know you are not worthy of fear. We are all hurt and we are all capable of bravery as much as we are of fear or hate.
This morning I woke up thinking about all the people waking in France today, realizing that their loved ones are gone. Today is also the anniversary of our Mother’s passing. Her battles were with a different kind of enemy. A physical one. But I always keep my poppy close for a few extra days in remembrance of her own life and braveries. It reminds me of the person she was, and who she hoped we would be. Creative, helpful members of our communities. I tell my son, we need to keep on with our day, with love and thoughts in our heart. He is beside me as I write this, drawing rainbow coloured pictures on his tablet. Living and creating. This is what we must do. Live and remember. Our hearts are with you, Paris. And with every heart in every person who wakes daily knowing that violence and war have taken someone they love. This is not the way things should be. But love can bind us together. Love and care.
“Love is like a golden thread, which binds two hearts together. And if this thread we do not break, then we’ll be friends forever.”