remember that time helena got to be on tv on anzac day? i do. similarly i remember having greatness thrust upon me when i was ten when i was asked to lay a wreath at island bay school. for the veterans.

this morning, 17 years after my last dawn service, i got up early for the veterans.

i got no view. but i could hear the speeches. the main one, from maybe the president of the RSA, wavered between great and terrible. it is hard going to a day like anzac day because the question about whether you are glorifying war comes up. and obviously i don't want to glorify war. and in fact i am not sure that i thank the veterans for my freedom. and i am also not sure that the new zealand spirit was solidified through war. but i am sure that my mother was crying when the veterans marched past. and that is why i was there really. because it is quite moving.

my grandfather at his funeral got some kind of RSA thing. he served in wwII and during his downward slide into dementia believed he was still fighting the war with the fijian army (he was based in fiji). unfortunately 1990s christchurch couldn't handle a semi naked (or semi-dressed depending on whether the cup is half full or half empty) older man running around declaring war. so he was put under extreme supervision by his rest home. then he died. but that is another story. anyway my point is that his life was shaped by the war. it left marks. and anzac day is kind of acknowledging them. but obviously i'm talking about my pakeha grandfather. my maori side was feeling fairly unacknowledged this morning. again, that is another story.

oh and even though i hate waking up at 4.55 it is made worth it when the most gorgeous baby in the world gives me smiles like this.