A Day to Myself

Another Wednesday, another day closer to the weekend.  I have enjoyed several days to myself recently, as Emily went to her dad's a day early, leaving on Thursday evening, and not returning home until Sunday evening.  I can't say I accomplished much that was productive-I read ( a lot), I watched movies, enjoyed some of my favourite "there's no one to cook for" suppers, and even spent one wonderful evening with friends.  Entirely self-indulgent, sleeping late, moving slow....days to be savoured.  I had good intentions of going to church Sunday morning, but the day dawned with ugly weather and I opted to stay off the highway.
There was no school Monday or Tuesday.  Monday was a professional development day for the teachers (or some such thing, I don't keep particular track) and Tuesday was, of course, Remembrance Day.  I stayed in Monday, and Emily entertained a friend.  I let them loose in the kitchen to make banana bread (I had over ripe bananas that needed using) and spent most of the day curled up with my book.
Tuesday I took Emily to the Remembrance Day service here.  She baulked at going, it was cold & I think she had envisioned spending the day in her pjs with her Legos & movies.  I couldn't really blame her,  I remember going as a kid, a Brownie, in fact, shivering in my uniform at the cenotaph and bored senseless at the service.  And yet I felt like it was important.
As we pulled up to the community museum for the service I explained to her, briefly, why it was so important to show our respect.  I told her there were places in the world where little girls didn't get to go to school, where you were not free to worship the way you wanted to, and that because of so many brave men & women we could live freely.
She actually enjoyed the service.  I am not sure just how much she understood, but she watched & listened, fascinated.  The bugler playing The Last Post was just behind & right of us, and I confess I got chills listening to the lone instrument's mournful call.  The cannon volley outside, while muffled, still gave one pause.

Later, as I was sharing the details of the service with my boyfriend, who attended in another community, and with my mother, who happens to be the Legion President in my home town, I could not help but think how glad I am that my daughter has no sense of the real horrors in the world.  She is not unaware.  At school they discussed the recent events in Ottawa, and she has seen & heard enough of the news, although I do try to keep her from most of it, as I think too often media focuses on the lurid and sensational aspects of a story rather than on the facts.  And it focuses on the ugliness of the world and not enough on the beauty of it.
I am glad she doesn't understand just what a blessing it is to worship Jesus openly, to pray & speak his name freely; that she doesn't know what a privilege school is, or that she has no idea how rich she really is because she is surrounded by people who love her, she had enough clothes for several little girls, and a roof over her head, food in a refrigerator, and clean water.  I am glad she can take these things for granted, and I know in time, as her knowledge grows she will not, because she has also been blessed by a compassionate and generous heart.

It wasn't so much a day to myself, given that Emily was home, but it was a quiet day of reflection.
We are blessed, and to those of you who have sacrificed much that I can freely ramble on like this and live a life of quiet peace, I thank you.