Remembrance Sunday has a different meaning for me; it is the anniversary of my best friend’s death.
11 years ago, we went out for a drink. I was woken up by a phone call the next morning, on Remembrance Sunday, telling me that he was dead.
He was killed in a car crash, in the early hours of November 11th.
Ever since then, the annual appearance of poppies signals that the anniversary is approaching, and my mind goes back to that fateful night.
I can’t rewrite the past, I can’t go back and prevent anything from happening, but still my mind relives it all in great detail.
November 11th 2007 was the worst day of my life, and even with the passing of time, the date is always an inescapable black mark on the calendar.