Today I celebrate peace, and I remember the peacemakers and healers. I don't celebrate war, or remember the warriors.
My grandfather was a medic for Canada in WWII. After saving many lives, he was sent home with TB to die. He pulled through, had my mother and her siblings, and peacefully lived out his life in service of his fellow man, working and volunteering until his death.
He was a great man. Not 'great' as in large, or famous, or decorated, or rich. 'Great' as in consistent, generous, principled, hardworking, honest, loyal. He had integrity, he was softspoken, he was skilled and intelligent, he was humble and genuine. If I end up half the man he was, I'll consider that an accomplishment. They don't make them like that anymore.
He wasn't a man of possessions, and I didn't get much of what little he had, but I did get this shovel and some of his other old wood-handled garden tools. They're banged up and weathered, but if I take care of them they'll last another 2 generations. I consider this a symbol of how he lived his life and his dedication to peaceful endeavors like growing plants.
This year, I put Grampa's tools to work here at my little place, and grew lots of healthy food for my family - including his great-grandson!
Today, I celebrate and remember him - and those like him - who work toward peace, who heal, who avoid aggression, who protect the weak. The underdogs, the freedom-fighters, the oppressed. Activists, peacekeepers, caregivers, and everyone else who detests violence and suffering, everyone who loves peace, everyone who longs for an end to war.
"I'm talking about genuine peace, the kind of peace that makes life on Earth worth living, the kind that enables men and nations to grow, to hope, and build a better life for their children. Not merely peace for Americans, but peace for ALL men and women. Not merely peace in our time, but peace for ALL time." - President of the United States of America, John Kennedy
War is a Racket
Since last Remembrance Day, we found out the entire Afghanistan War was a lie, from day 1. It's the longest war in US history, and still going today, with hundreds of thousands of dead and tens of millions injured or homeless.
Here in Canada, we use a plastic poppy as a symbol of Remembrance Day (November 11th). I support your right to wear a poppy if you want, but I personally don't. Not only is Remembrance Day about honouring war, but the poppy itself is a strange choice, considering the trillion-dollar poppy (opium) crop in Afghanistan, and the raging opioid crisis in North America.
When my grandfather raised his children (including my mother), he had poppy plants - the real opium-producing kind - growing openly in his back garden. After he died, I helped my grandmother care for the house and garden in Vancouver until her death in 2016. Every year, big furry leaves and pods emerged from the ground, followed by gorgeous blood-red blooms with dark centers. This photograph is of a poppy from that backyard garden.
He wasn't loud about it, he didn't preach, but his actions taught me - even after his death - about peace, hope, and love. It was my ultimate pleasure to cherish and care for my grandmother once he wasn't there to do so.
In 2020, Canada and the world need peacemakers more than ever. Censorship takes our free speech, unconstitutional rules and laws force us into masks and close our businesses, police restrict travel, wars of aggression are waged in our names, protest is banned, the people are divided against each other, and those who cause problems for the state are dealt with. We're at risk of losing the last of our freedom, right now.
When Grama died, my family sold their old house. Somebody rents it now, and the gardens have fallen into disrepair, but I bet you those poppies still flower every May.
Peace.
DRutter