Always one of the saddest days of the year for me. I can’t remember how many Anzac Day services I’ve been to but this year may well be the frist time I’ve missed going to one since I was a teenager. Two trips to Gallipoli in Turkey make it all the more emotional – that place can’t help but leave an impression on you.
And then there is the remembrance of my Grandfather in WW2 in New Guinea and then the awful family tragedy in 1988 when three of my young cousins drowned in a flooded creek out on their family’s property. I never really knew them and if they’d lived I probably still wouldn’t be very close to them… but the idea of their little lives never having a chance? It’s just gut wrenching…
Anzac Day is usually very solemn around here