November is the month of poppies because poppies symbolize the fallen of the First World War on Remembrance day, November 11th. In Britain especially it’s a somber, respectful time, with red poppies flashing at you from the lapels of workmates, family, friends and strangers almost everywhere you go not just during the week of November 11th, but for much of the month.
For me, poppies hold a second association. On November 23rd 2003, my dad passed away following a 2 year battle against cancer. It was a difficult time and I barely remember anything much of the week and a half following his death. I remember coming home from the hospice and changing into the pair of clean spare pyjamas we had taken for him, not sure how long he would be in hospice–2 days–and I remember sitting at our lounge table a week later, trying to decide what to write on the little card presented to me that would be pinned to the flowers that would be lain on his casket.
We had poppies.
I remember the poppies. Continue reading
Miss Amy May 