A bit more.

I drove to visit a sick relative in the hospital last week.  I still at that point, had not organized anything for my blog. I was driving around because I arrived too early to pay a visit.  I was going to head over to my grandmothers house to wait there.  On the way I passed a cemetery. I don't even know the name of it.  I never looked. I just found it a stunning site. As I was driving in the car contemplating how unfortunate it is in Canada, that we don't pay homage to fallen soldiers, or to our history as they do in America. Here was this cemetery that pops up in front of me, and it is covered with little Canadian Flags!  Why would this be? What was going on? Of course! It was memorial day for Vimy Ridge.

There were a number of ceremonies, and I was seeing the remnants of one. The waving flags, the flowers... The Cemetery had street signs that read, Flanders fields, and Normandy. It was moving, and where was I when the ceremonies where happening?

Here I am for about a month, wondering "where is Canada's patriotism, where is our National pride, and what are we teaching our children." I completely missed an opportunity to share history with my children, or just to participate with my community. I was driving at the time. Like I so often am, when I have some kind of revelation, or idea, or when I learn something.

I decided to drive through the cemetery. This got me thinking once again about that Cemetery where my great grandmother is buried. I made a mental note that I needed to get back there now that it was spring. P. and I decided to go this weekend.

We left on Saturday and made our way in that direction. I was so excited and jumped out of the car, I exchanged my heels for rubber boots, I came prepared this time. I started walking around the cemetery with my camera looking for this marker that would open my eyes, enlighten me, give me some info, possibly my great grandmothers date of death, at least a picture. It was freezing cold, it was windy and I couldn't find a marker. I found a couple but almost all of the markers that lay flat in the ground were so overgrown you couldn't make out one letter on them. I will have to do more research and find out where in the cemetery she is buried and go back with a map.

It was disappointing, but I am alive, and although I am curious about my ties to the past, we had some living relatives to go and visit and that is where we headed. The rest of my day was lovely spend with P's grandfather. A. enjoyed her visit with her great grandfather. The day was salvaged by my loved ones, and that is the way life should be.