Encompassing Designs
  • Home
  • Shop
    • Kits
    • Patterns >
      • Christine Little >
        • Signature Designs
        • New Designs
        • Seasonal Designs
      • Deborah Sweet
      • Susan Leslie
      • Patricia Perry
      • William Morris
    • Supplies >
      • Backings
      • Frames
      • Hooks
      • Books
      • Extra
    • Wool >
      • Abrashed
      • Custom Dyeing
      • Dyed Bundles
      • Dyed Curly Mohair
      • Dyed Spots
      • Dyed Values
      • Dyed Yarn
      • Jacquard Dice Dyes
      • Natural & Colours
      • Plaids & Textures
      • Dye Books & Swatches
  • Ordering
  • Blog
  • Workshops
  • Our Story
  • Contact Us

Remembrance Day 2013

11/12/2013

2 Comments

 
Picture
Larry Willoughby Veinotte
Born 1908 Mahone Bay
Died and buried in Sicily 1943. 
One of 116,000 Canadian soldiers that never came back home. 
 
I wasn't fortunate enough to know my grandfather, but genetically I am parts of him, and because of him I am alive.

Sadly, there have never been any hugs or bedtime stories, sitting cuddled on his lap in the old family rocking chair, no memories of my own to savor, just relayed accounts of his brief stay on this earth from the few who still remember him.  War robbed me of those experiences and although it was necessary to free the world of a fascist regime, that doesn't mean it hurts any less. 

My grandfather  died when my father was only seven, leaving a boy without a significant male role model and I firmly believe it was the largest contributing factor of him growing up unhappy.  My father was a very sensitive man and somehow the loss left a cloud over his life; a  hole that nothing could fill although he made a gallant effort to drown it in alcohol.    He cried over his father every time he drank and since I was a young girl, I knew how deeply effected he was by the loss, which continued to impact his life until he passed away.

War is indiscriminate, it doesn't just take soldiers.  It can destroy families and rob what might have been.   I feel my father's life, and even my own, would have been a totally different story if my grandfather had been one of the lucky ones to come home.  I believe I grieve for a man I never met because his loss  took my father from this earth...from me prematurely.   I believe in my heart that my father would have been a happier man, one who could have been contented to live in his own skin.    
 
For reasons I cannot explain, I am deeply touched by a virtual stranger, a figurehead in name only. Of course I’ve heard stories about him but they are only words, tales spun of a man who died well before his time.  I’ll never know the real person, the man who laughed and loved, made mistakes and cried.  What I do know, his progeny aside, is the tangible proof of his existence that hangs on my upstairs wall in the form of a framed photograph; a small, frozen moment in time.  Posed in the army uniform, he's dapper and handsome and I suppose I should be grateful for the portrait because there wouldn’t have been such a detailed likeness  to treasure if not for the war....but it's not exactly a fair trade; taking away the real flesh and blood man to leave behind a mere facsimile. 
 
For me, the most striking aspect of the photograph is his eyes.   They are my father's eyes and the same eyes that stare back at me in the mirror.  I can’t find the words to describe exactly how I feel as I look at him, but there's a familiarity, a connection like a plug to an outlet. We simply belong, he and I, and if one can have a relationship with a piece of photographic paper, than we do. His portrait hangs in my upstairs hallway and those eyes greet me as I begin my day, seeming to speak to me as I emerge from my bedroom doorway. 

Larry Willoughby Veinotte, born  1908, died in Sicily 1943, fighting in a war that took him from home and family, where he lies in a grave on foreign soil.  Out of work and without prospects, he signed up to fight as a means to support his family.  A loving, selfless thing to do in depressed times with a wife and four children to clothe and feed.   He was older, in his mid-thirties, really too old to go to war but there are stories that he somehow put forth a good argument to enlist.  Statistically they say the older you are in combat the higher the risk of mortality.  Age brings out compassion for your fellow man, reluctance to pull the trigger when the enemy has a face. War is not a place for emotions, it's every man for himself amidst the violence, chaos, and confusion.  A split second of hesitation can be the difference between life and death.
 
As the story goes, my grandfather died trying to save a buddy.   He crawled out of the trenches to drag a friend to safety, a friend from his hometown of  Mahone Bay. Unfortunately the soldier  was already dead and my grandfather took a bullet in the process.  He bled to death in a medic tent, but not before he wrote a letter to his wife, my grandmother.  I’ve never seen the letter, only heard of its existence, and I don’t know if I would read it even if it hadn’t been lost many years ago. That would have been their private moment to own, not mine to intrude upon, but I do reflect on what words and thoughts one might relay if death is staring you in the face with only a few moments to say good bye to the ones you love.  
 
So every year around this time I become melancholy and park myself on the sofa and watch war documentaries, searching the faces for  a glimpse of familiarity.  As more and more footage is released showing us what war was really like, you see what weaponry can do to flesh and bone, and with coloured footage, distinguish  the mud from the blood.   I sit with tears in my eyes and horror in my heart unable to imagine what those soldiers felt at the front of any battle.  

Every November the sadness overcomes me as I wonder what might have been.    So much time has passed it might seem irrelevant to some, but not every part of him is gone.  I’m here and I want to preach from my soap box that Larry Willoughby Veinotte mattered. He was loved.  A brother; a husband; a father; a living, breathing person....and then was taken away.  Our entire family is collateral damage of that war, we can't even begin to know what we missed from not having him in our lives.   I watched my father destroy himself because he wasn't strong enough to deal with, or stamp out the palpable sadness of his loss.  It is so out of character for me to be a babbling fool, but this gets me, right in the heart. 

And I'm angry,
we haven't evolved or learned anything from past mistakes.  War and conflict still exist and more fathers, husbands, sons and daughters are dying.  The fact that the human race can't get along upsets me and I resent war and the collateral damage that results from it.   Yesterday morning I looked out the window at the blue sky and shining sun and pondered going to the Cenotaph, to stand with the families of the fallen but I was too sad.  I'll stay home and shed private tears and watch Remembrance Day from the sofa.   Lest We Forget?  Personally I can't.  If only I could......    

Picture
2 Comments
Margaret
11/12/2013 09:47:23 pm

Oh, Christine, I know exactly whst you mean! Being a military wife for over 30 years, whose husband fortunately did not have to go to a foreign land, and now the mother of a military man who has been to Bosnia, Yugoslavia and twice to Afghanistan, I get it. My son lost many friends in Afghanistan, and a couple in Yugoslavia. Most in Afghanistan were lost to roadside bombs. My son is the one they send in to disarm those bombs when they find them unexploded. A nightmare for a mother to go through. The tears I have cried when I heard reports of injuries or deaths, not knowing what country, what base or any names. Praying nobody comes to your door, but feeling ashamed because they will be at someone else's door with bad news. My son told me he didn't do enough..and I told him if he took apart one bomb and saved one life, it was enough. I know he saved many more by doing his job. Now married, with twins on the way, he will remain a military man, often being sent to places he cannot disclose, on the spur of the moment. Brave yung men and women, all, keeping this country safe and trying to defuse things in other places. No, war does not make any sense. But thank God we have people willing to do what they can to both prevent and to stop wars.

Reply
Christine
11/13/2013 01:13:14 am

How life relates to us and how the world works is a conflict. As a mother, I can't imagine what you must go through! Thank-you for sharing!

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Christine Little has been ranked #5​ out of the 60 top rug hooking bloggers by Rug Hooking Magazine!

    Picture
    Picture
    Max Anderson, Australia, recipient of my Nova Scotia Treasures rug.  An award of excellence for promoting Canada through his writing.  
    Picture
    Picture

    RSS Feed

    Archives

    January 2023
    July 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    November 2021
    October 2021
    July 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012

    Picture
    Picture
    Gift Certificates are available for that special rug hooker in your life!  Any denomination, no expiry date! 

    Picture

    Categories
    (Click on the categories for past blogs)

    All
    Announcements
    Beginner Class
    Christmas
    Colour Planning
    Contests
    Copyright
    Coupon
    Customer Rugs
    Cutter Servicing
    Dyeing
    Equipment
    Featured Hooker
    Giveaway Draw
    Guest Blogger
    Guest Blogger
    Health & Fitness
    Home & Heart
    Hooked Rugs
    Hooking Groups
    Hook In Talk
    Initially Yours
    Jibber Jabber
    Just A Bit Of Fun!
    Life's Experiences
    Life's Experiences
    New Design
    New Ideas
    Pattern Of The Week
    Patterns Hooked
    Pets
    Rants
    Recipes
    Rememberingfbe7326ff7
    Rug Schools
    Show & Tell
    Show-tell
    The Rant
    Tips Technique
    Tips Techniquef0cd117ab4
    Visitors
    Workshops

    Picture
    Picture
    Picture





















    Picture
    We have a pot to "Fiz" in!

Shop Hours:
Monday - Friday 10:00 AM - 5:00 PM 
Saturdays 12:00 PM - 4:00 PM
We are closed during ice and snow storms
​so please call ahead.  If school is cancelled we probably are as well.  

Toll Free: 1-855-624-0370
Local: 1-902-624-0370​
encompassingdesigns@gmail.com

498 Main Street
P.O. Box 437
Mahone Bay, N.S.
Canada B0J 2E0

​Follow us and keep up to date
on our specials, new products
​and events!
Picture
Picture
Picture


Home
Shop
Ordering
Blog
Our Story
Workshops

Contact Us




​​​© Copyright 2023 Encompassing Designs. Website by SKYSAIL