Well today is Anzac Day and for me that is a big day. My family (on my mum’s side) has quite a history from World War 2. My Grandfather had 3 brothers. All 4 of them fought in the war, 3 of them in the very same unit. All 4 of them came home, unharmed & Alive. But that is a story of its own really. But this history means that each year I make the journey down to Sydney. To visit the family, to spend the day with the rest of the “Stewarts” and to pay my respects to those of the 2/2nd who should never be forgotten.

But this is always a bit of fun as well, because I get to get dressed up. Dressed up in my suit, looking good, looking respectful. Dressed up, wearing my Grandfathers Medals (well the miniatures anyway because the real ones are going into Storage for safe keeping) I do something that the RSL wishes we did not. I march in the Anzac Day Parade in Sydney. Yes, thats right. I’m the naughty person who marches in memory of someone who has past. I don’t care what the RSL thinks, I would rather ensure that the 2/2nd is never forgotten and that the memories of those who fought for us are remembered.

This year it would probably be my last trip for a while (might be lucky to find an Anzac Day memorial in Seattle somewhere) but it was a great trip. I flew down yesterday after work with Qantas. An easy flight, albeit delayed, the usual Qantas Experience, a feed, some news and the drop down screens on their 737s. I ended up staying at the Hilton and even though I didnt get to the hotel till almost 10pm, it was worth that little bit extra. I ended up in a room on the 43rd floor, with a view of Town Hall all the way below. But best of all, being upgraded to an Executive Room, hello free Breakfast!

After getting only 3 or 4 hours sleep, getting up for the Dawn Service and freezing my butt off (I think i can suck it up considering what others have sacrificed in this life) at 430am, I decided a run would warm me up. So I ended up running around the Circular Quay area, watching as the Sun rose behind the Opera House and started to light up the harbour and the Bridge, looking at it thinking, wow.. wont see this for a little while. This little memory adds to others from this trip. Seeing family at Lunch, marching up through George Street again and seeing Dick Smith returned to his usual spot and then flying home, to watch the sun set as I landed for one last time into Brisbane this year.

All these tiny little moments make you look back and want to respect the little things in life, those little moments when you look at it and think, That is worth fighting for, it’s worth the sacrifice. So to the Stewart Brothers and all the others who made the sacrifice so that I can write this blog today..

Lest We Forget

Anzac Day 2012