It is ANZAC Day and my

godfather is still alive and can remember his war experiences - remember them all too clearly.

Nearly eighty years after the end of WWII those events are still impacting the people who experienced them. They may be a dwindling number but they lived through horrors I cannot even begin to imagine.

Yes, I know we have had wars since then. There are wars going on now. I keep working because people keep fighting as well as because of natural disasters. I only do less work than I once did because other people and technology have taken over from me.  My godfather and his mates had no access to anything like that.

If my godfather had been captured by the Japanese, and he might easily have been, he would not have survived. He is a tall, skinny man. He has always been like that. The work on the Burma railway would have killed him very quickly because he already had the beginnings of the back condition which has caused him to wear a "corset" for the rest of his life. His hearing was impacted too. 

My godfather came home and went back to work. Eventually he changed jobs because he could no longer do the physical work involved in his specialist one. He ended up in a very responsible position and was very successful at it. Now a widower with two children he has perhaps had what some people would call a "happy" life.  Maybe it could at least be said he has been content with his lot but there are moments.

I know there will be moments today. He is about to turn one hundred. His son will get him somewhere today so he can reflect quietly. He no longer goes to any of the Dawn services. We no longer have the little moment in our street. The people involved have moved on. The children here are too young for such emotional occasions.

So I went elsewhere for my godfather. It was chilly but I put on an extra layer and pedalled off in the "not quite light" knowing that any passing police patrol would know where I was going and why. I was on the footpaths and had the light on the trike. There was a police car parked near the venue I attended. One of them was there leaning against the vehicle. He was talking quietly into his phone. He stopped as I came up looking for somewhere safe to leave the trike. 

"Lock it to this," he said, indicating a "no parking" post. He took the chain and the lock to do it for me. For a short time it seems this was a parking area. 

"Thanks for coming," he told me softly. I am guessing he knew people who are now parked somewhere else - forever.