Post 59: ANZAC Day

 I had no expectation that I would be up at sunrise to take part in the Dawn Service for Anzac Day. I don’t attend the service at the cenotaph , and although I often wake up early, I usually stay in bed reading and dozing.  Because of  Corona Virus  Dawn Services were cancelled or limited to a handful of representatives. People were encouraged to stand in their driveways or balconies and hold a lighted candle.

When I woke up before dawn this morning I realised I could take part. I leapt up, grabbed a wooden Balinese statue with a candle at its base and took it out to my front balcony. The only flat space to put it was beside the head of a Buddha. It looked a bit strange for the occasion. I then realised that, although no one would see a candle on my Eastern balcony,  I could light it as the sun rose. I scrabbled around in my candle container (of course I have a candle container - in case of blackout), rushed to the Eastern balcony, and found a place for the candle in line with the rising sun.


Just as I photographed it, my dove flew from the roof to the tree in my line of sight and a single bugle sounded the last post across the city. I don’t know if it was from the city war memorial, or somewhere more local, but it was extraordinary - a single call as the sun rose . The dove is barely visible but I’ve marked it in the photo to the right of the candle

Jim liked to go to the Dawn Service and often laid the wreath for the South Australian Education Department. Jim’s middle name was Lionel, named for his uncle, a Warrant Officer in the RAAF. Lionel was the youngest of three brothers. When their mother died, and their father deserted them, the two older boys left school to earn enough to support Lionel and keep him at school. When war broke out, Lionel was 18. He volunteered and joined the Airforce. His plane was shot down over the Bali Sea on 21 May 1944 with a loss of all lives. Lionel was 22. Jim felt an obligation to ensure Lionel was not forgotten.

At 8.30 my cleaner came. He is the only person, other than myself, who has been in my apartment since I returned from England. He and his wife came to Adelaide from Pakistan after working in Dubai for a number of years on permanent protection visas . Last week his wife was unable to return to Pakistan to see her dying mother. Nor can she attend the funeral. There were no flights. It has been a very difficult time for them. They love Australia and regard it as home but there are heartbreaking losses. 

We talked of migration and the cost. Many migrants, my grandparents included, left their home country knowing they could never return, never see their parents or siblings again. We’ve come to expect to travel - but it has been a privilege. We can no longer take it for granted. There will be many more such sadnesses before we are through. I sent him home with a bag of Anzac biscuits to eat in the evenings after their fast, and a printed explanations about their significance.

At 11 am a sound drew me to look over the Square. A lone piper was playing Amazing Grace. I gather he walked the city playing it today. He looks tiny in the photo, but his sound was not.

Both Vivienne and Katherine sent me the Nursing Mother’s Association Anzac biscuit recipe. I tried it out. I vote these in second place in my Anzac biscuit trials. The winner, for my money, is the first recipe - from the Australian Women’s Weekly.

I had a long phone call with a friend still working in the Education Department and trying to support principals and teachers through the expectations, limitations and demands on them at the moment.

I kept stitching and watching the Anzac Day coverage - so many people who have never attended a dawn service finding ways of sharing commemoration with their neighbours and families .

The screen is coming along a treat. Very happy with it.  It is relaxing stitching. This is today's progress.

Late in the afternoon I received a message that Jennifer had been brought off her respirator and kept breathing for herself. However, doctors found her vocal cords are swollen so have reinstated the respirator and are treating her with steroids for 48 hours to reduce the swelling before trying again. Disappointing - but within the skill and resources of the ICU in which she is placed. Deo volente.

It was a somewhat sobering end to a day of inspiring, moving moments and lots of reflection.

I cooked a pork hock for my dinner, opened a bottle of bubbles and watched an episode of Midsomer Murders followed by Murder in Paradise. Not quite a bottle of wine and Patsy Cline - but close.

This is the screen tonight. I reckon I can stitch to level with the base of the tree before rolling the linen on to the end.

Tomorrow.