Tears at Christmas

yes, I know that a lot of people talk about fights etc at Christmas, and that roll-the-eyes stereotype of people hating their relatives at Christmas but having to spend time with them. I am fortunate in having a small and fairly close family – and living 3000km away from most of the extended family for my growing up may have helped this.

Anyway, the tears were because of my mother, today – and she was 800km away. Impressive, eh?

She gave me a set of my Dad’s military medals, in miniature. For those of you with no experience in this – anyone who gets a medal gets the full-size one, and a miniature. Not sure of the original reason for this. You can get extra miniature ones, too, it turns out. So my brother and I, no longer living at home, have got a full set of Dad’s medals (for service – nothing extraordinary – in Vietnam), all attached properly on a ribbon, with a pin at the back, so we can wear them if ever we want to on ANZAC Day etc. I’m never likely to do that, but my bro might.

Dad died June 2000. It’s a really special, unexpected present.

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