Anzac Day

Today we took Ari to his first Anzac Day parade.
Well, actually, we took him to the Botanical Gardens and ended up catching up with a mate who had come down to Melbourne for the parade.
I am so glad we did. It was wonderful.
Not only was Melbourne bathed in glorious sunshine, the event was such a fabulous and moving experience.
I had covered many a dawn service and parade as a journalist, but had never been to one of my own volition.
While Ari was fascinated by the roulette flyover and piles of fallen leaves, we clapped the parading diggers and hummed along to the bands (it takes a long time to get Its A Long Way To Tipperary out of your head, believe me).
We then joined my friend Johns family at a short service for his grandfathers regiment.
As we walked away, we were both a little choked up.
I defy anyone NOT to get a bit teary when they hear those immortal words "at the going down of the sun, we will remember them." Ditto for The Last Post or Amazing Grace.
The one emotion of the day that resonated most of all was respect. Those men and women marching commanded our respect and deserve it wholeheartedly.