
Remembrance Day has evolved into much more than wearing poppies and a moment of silence in my house, it’s become a day to remember family members who are no longer with us and cherish those who still are.
This family tradition started long before I met my husband Andrew and his family. Andrew’s maternal grandfather Charles, who served nine years as a trooper in WWII with the Princess Louise Dragoon Guard, had passed away on October 30th, 1988. Every year he had marched with the veterans in our local Remembrance Day ceremony. It was decided that since he was no longer able to be there physically, the family would all attend the ceremony and get together afterwards to visit his grave and have some soup. Twenty-one years later, this tradition still continues.

I first experienced the Annual McCormick Remembrance Day festivities in November 2003. (Although I had been in the family since 2002, our son Liam was born on November 9, 2002 and we weren’t released from the hospital in time to make it.) It has since become one of my favourite family traditions. A way to remember fallen heroes, lost loved ones and appreciate the extended family that you may not get to see as often as you’d like in these busy times.
Andrew’s uncle Ralph McCormick usually says a few words and then we all recite the poem, In Flanders Fields in English (and occasionally my daughter Mackenzie will say it in French). We then all attend the local Remembrance Day ceremony and meet up at a central spot to travel together by car (there’s normally six to seven car loads). Along the route we make stops for family members to pay respects to loved ones at different graveyards. Our last stop is at Andrew’s grandparents’ where we remove our poppies and place them on the memorial wreath.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow 
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 – 1918)
After being outdoors in the chill of November we all return to Andrew’s aunt and uncle’s home (Judy and Gary Lockhart) for hot soup compliments of all of the family matriarchs, although the past few years I have been bringing my Buttercup Squash Soup by request! It’s such an honour to be included in this family event, one that I hope will continue on for many years to come!
Be sure to visit The Memory Project- Stories of the Second World War where you’ll find the incredible stories of service and sacrifice which are currently being collected and archived by The Memory Project.