Like so many others today we crept out of the house, into the pre-dawn darkness, all rugged up against the coolness of the morning. And in the car we continued a conversation, with the kids, that we've visited many times about why it's so important to remember the men and women who lost their lives serving our country. Who made the ultimate sacrifice. And why we also remember those men and women who served our country in different wars, in different parts of the world, who came home. As well as those who are currently serving our country in so many different ways.
We arrived at the Dawn Service and met up with Hubby's parents. We listened to the last post and The Ode, observed the one minute silence and watched the laying of the wreaths. This year one of the old ladies who normally lays a wreath wasn't there and I got a bit teary. And for the first time I saw a young mum with a little girl lay a wreath and could only imagine who they were representing and my vision got blurry with more unshed tears.
The sky lightened with the rising sun, revealing a beautiful cloud streaked sky and at least two thousand people in attendance - mostly families, like us, with grandparents, parents, and children. ranging from teenagers to tiny little babies.
I don't think there's any danger of Australians forgetting the importance of those who gave their lives for their country. Or those who were lucky enough to come back but still suffered in so many different ways. Or those who are serving now. And I felt so proud to be Australian, to be the grand-daughter of someone who did make it back but never spoke of his experiences, and to be the mum who is teaching her kids about it.