In the Trenches

Considering the pros and cons of my life on this day of Remembrance, I thought of my uncles that fought in World War II and of the battles fought daily in communities, hospitals and care homes. Their enemy was visible and vicious, battling in bloody combat while in and out of muddy, cold trenches. We are in another kind of war today on a global scale. Our enemy is invisible and vicious. The frontlines are not only in one community or just across the ocean, but around the world. In communities of any size. In this country, our soldiers have worked with and supported our hospital staff, still putting their lives at risk.

Then there are those of us who are not even close to the front lines. It is difficult to believe the reality of this virus, this Covid19 coronavirus, when a loved one has not been ill or lost. If it was not for the dedication of our Public Health officials and most government officials, we could have lost this battle long ago. Closing our doors to those outside of our ‘bubbles’, keeping us out of gatherings, whether spiritual, celebratory or funereal, only speaking to one another via text messaging, video chats or telephone, no longer going shopping easily. All are downsides - school disruptions, freedom of movement sharply curtailed. And masks. We are implored to wear masks to decrease the transmissibility of this rapidly travelling virus. 

Today, I sat in my cosy living room, reading a recently published biography for book club over Zoom only getting up to refill my coffee, disturbing my cat that lay on my lap. Comfortable, warm and dry, I realized that we are all in the trenches. In hospitals, in care homes and even in our private homes. Sadly, there have been far too many that have lost their lives in this war that will end, but seems endless. 

On this day of Remembrance, I remember all the soldiers in the many wars of this world  - young men and young women - who have given so much to all of us. I am both saddened at their loss and very grateful for their service. 

“The living owe it to those who no longer 

can speak to tell their story for them.”

~ Czeslaw Milosz, “The Issa Valley”