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Published: October 10th 2008
What follows was still my first day, but I wanted to set it apart from the rest.
After my walk along the footpath into the village, I made my way around and ended up heading out of town on a little road that skirts the loch. I knew there was a war memorial somewhere along the road, so I just kept walking, taking in everything around me, completely floored.
As I approached the war memorial, I saw a car that had passed me just minutes ago parked across the way. Now, the memorial was nothing outstanding, just the names of the gentlemen from the region who had served and died in the World Wars. Pretty standard stuff, we've all seen them before.
What I wasn't ready for were the 2 older men who got out of the car...with their bagpipes. I think I even said outloud to myself "Oh my god." Anyone who knows me knows that possibly my top kryptonite are bagpipes. Normally lethal on their own, but add any sort of military or remembrance value and I'm a total mess.
As I stood there, the oldest of the two men fired up his pipes
and began walking towards the memorial. He could barely walk with his cane from the car as it was, but he left all that behind and began walking up the little hill to the memorial at the top.
I was paralyzed.
I almost felt like I was intruding upon something very private, and clearly a ritual for these two. But I couldn't leave, and I was very discreet in the photos I took.
I'll never forget this....it was completely random. Not some event listed on the Royal Mile as a tourist trap, not an advertised "Local music night" at a pub. This was a quiet road in the center of Scotland, with no-one else around.
I moved away from the road and towards the water, trying to be respectful but still admiring what I was seeing and hearing. I turned towards the water just as the second piper joined in. It was so raw, so perfect...I knew as I was standing there that this was one of the moments I would remember and recall for the rest of my life. It was defining where I was geographically, emotionally and spiritually in one fell movement.
Looking
out over the water, the pipes behind me broke into "Amazing Grace". I know it's cliche, but that was it for me. I could not stop the tears that had been held back. There's something about it; I think it defines the kind of person you are, what makes you cry. I mean, I was happy. I was healthy (somewhat), and I don't have a family military history or certain or specific memory that goes along with the songs they were playing. But I do have enormous admiration and disbelief towards the men and women who have died for my country/countries. I can't comprehend it. I feel so very lucky that I don't know what it feels like to send my brothers/father/uncle/friends overseas to fight in a war. I am so grateful that I have certain freedoms and rights because of wars being fought.
To live through that, to see your friends die beside you....to come back to where their names are carved and play a tribute in otherwise complete silence....
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Sadie
non-member comment
The Bagpipes
Sarah, that entry was beautiful. I almost burst into tears reading it. That is such a beautiful thing and you are tremendously lucky to have experienced it--although you clearly already know this. I am so envious of your travels! I can't wait to set out on my own. I am so enjoying your blogs, it gives me time to relax and think about something other than school. Missing you!