Now I know I was still poorly woes over the weekend, & that in itself makes one more tearful & sentimental - but I am not ashamed to say I saw most of the BBC's festival of rememberance this saturday night and cried.
I cried at the mother remembering her 20 year old son Joe who died earlier this year (that could have so easily have been my boy) I cried at the 12 remaining chelsea pensioners tottering down the stairs, even at Katherine Druggie Jenkins & the Hunkathon singing.
I am wearing my poppy with pride and honoured the 2 minute silence yesterday. As Frankie says; War - what is it good for? It aint nothing but a heartbreaker.
But - I felt so guilty yesterday, as we didn't get to bed until 05:00am after a party & I slept in until 12:30pm! I couldn't believe i'd missed watching the laying of the wreaths at the cenotaph.
I usually go to the Memorial Gardens on remembrance Sunday, but missed that too.