Why I wear a poppy…

At this time of year we start to see people wearing poppies in remembrance of those who fought for the freedoms we enjoy today. I wear one to say thanks:
For those who died defending our liberties and stopping tyranny and the abuses of our fellow man;
For those who returned home, scarred by the injuries they suffered that were both visible and the ones that were hidden;
For those who left the comforts of their home, trained and travelled to lands far off and who received the eternal thanks of liberated people as they marched;
To those cut down in their youth who will never see the hope and promise the free nations became;
To those who in peace keeping missions tried to preserve tenuous peace treaties and to assist oppressed citizens;
To those who believed that our freedoms were rightly worth dying for and the price of freedom really is “eternal vigilance”;
For the members of my family who fought and perished and those that returned home safely;
For my family members who still serve today whether it is with the Princess Pats, the US Marines, Navy, the Royal Air Force or the reserves;
For the families of those who have served and whose hearts skip a beat when news of a fallen Canadian reaches us;
For all those who gather in solemn remembrance in the cold clear days of November and watch the procession of dignitaries and veterans pause after laying a wreath at cenotaphs;
To remind me that the life I have has been paid for by generations of brave men and women and my freedom and ability was on their sacrifices;
To the greatest country in the world who has given me the opportunity I enjoy.

It is always an honour to be able to walk beside the Legionnaires, and active members as we make our way to the Cenotaph. To be able to participate and to pause and lay a wreath at the Cenotaph.

My family is not any different then most peoples in Canada who will reflect the next few days of the freedoms we have won and the price we have all paid.

Wear the poppy with pride, humility and peaceful reflection.
We will Remember them…


An uncle, Major Somerville was the aide de Camp for President Roosevelt in WW2

My Dad in Acton in the Masales Dairy truck on the spontaneous parade that happened after WW2 ended.