We went to see the poppies at the Tower of London in Saturday. It was breathtakingly beautiful and sad, and I found it special that with all the thousands of people there, there was still an air of hushed respect.
We have just observed the silence together at home, Jessica and I and although I always find it moving, this year it felt more so. I don’t know if it is because of the 100th anniversary, or if it is because I am a mother now, but I think a big part of it is living in an older home.
Whoever lived in this house would have gone to war, or had a husband or brother or father who did. She sat here in this room in the evenings, doing what? Knitting to send to the front? Writing him letters? Trying to keep cheerful?
There is a display in our shopping centre, with photographs of some of our soldiers with their names, where they lived, what they did before the war. It somehow seems much less time than 100 years ago.
I love this country, and I love that we have all come together and paused as one.
We will remember them.