The Sound of Medals

When I was a 17-year-old high school graduate, I joined the Canadian Military. I learned everything from administration to guns and tanks, but the most important thing I took away was comradeship, respect and appreciation. It was peacetime and doing my bit seemed like the right thing to do as I was raised by parents who both served in WWII. Mom and Dad had met each other at the beginning of the war and had a very long and happy marriage until Mom left us for a place where it will always be peacetime.

Neither of them talked much about the brutality of that war, but they had lots of good memories that were easier to share. I think they preferred to keep the dark in the dark and focus on the happy, safe moments. I never wondered why. I had learned enough about the dark times when I was training with the Military as we studied war history and learned the importance of why we had what we did – freedom and life.

My job when I was a little girl was to polish Dad’s medals. My fingers would turn black the day before every November 11th Remembrance Day Service, and I would wonder if my Dad was royalty because he had so many medals. I never did get every bit of polish off each one but I don’t think he minded. It was important to him that I knew what it all meant.

The sound of hundreds of medals jostling together on the aging chests of the veterans at the Services every year is a sound that never fails to bring tears to my eyes and re-ignite that feeling of humbleness and gratitude. The overwhelming pride of the veterans, mixed with painful memories of loss, are brought closer to the hearts of all as the somber jingling pays a mindful tribute to those who never made it home.

Dad is 93 now and spends Remembrance Day at home. Attending a service is too much for his weary body. He received a rare service award from the Canadian Legion in September 2010 and that was the last time he was able to take part. It was also the last time I polished his medals but I know I will do it once more.

And as I ponder the consequences of a world that may have turned a different direction back then without the sacrifice of men and women like my parents, I think of the tremor in Dad’s hand, the sadness in his eyes as he loses another wartime friend, and the fading light around him as life winds down. I wish for him that when he leaves this world, he carries with him the knowledge that he and my mother left it a better place for having contributed so much to so many. Thank you Mom and Dad. Thank you to all the veterans.

Photo Credit

Canadian Military Medals  @ www.medalmounting.ca

Recent Wanda Gray-Lambeth Articles:

• Broken Butterfly
• The Act of Re-Grieving
• Grieving Mothers On A Mission - My Personal Story
• Sharing The Warmth
• Other Worlds