Veteran’s Day for me is an interesting time, a time mixed with great memories, miserable memories of comrades I used to celebrate with, and no longer can, celebratory drinks with Gin, Tequila, Win, Cognac, Bloody Marys, and bier from days long past. Fortunately, with time changes, calls to the states are later in the morning, (many drinks and memories). Calls, emails, texts, and chats help keep up with old friends and family. (For some reason, “family” seems to be aging more than “old friends?” Go figure, huh:)
Veteran’s Day for me is a time to remember new and exciting experiences around the world that made me what I am today (for good and bad) and the friends who helped me become who I am. We celebrate our successes, and re-analyze our failures!
Lunch on St. Marten’s Day is often a crowded affair, since many businesses close and many families take to the adegas, tabernas, and village and town squares. Speaker systems go up, local “Philharmonics” dressed in band uniforms and marching around the square, and kiosks or Tascas pop up in most open places. Parking becomes challenging, but nearly every enjoys walking, drinking, eating, dancing, seeing old friends, meeting new ones, and reminiscing about old harvests, experiences, and friends. In the Praca Velha (Old Square) in Angra do Heroismo (Terceira’s UNESCO Site – so everything looks as it did in the 1600’s) young and old dance to songs and music that may be hundreds of years old as well. Old couples who have probably been attending St. Marten observances since they were children, often dancing on the same tile-decorated cobblestone surfaces, are smiling to each other, smiling in memories of partners and friends long-passed, and dancing alone or with others with amazing agility. Young children, family pets, and beautiful young relatives grace the square, dancing patiently with older relatives who still mouth the words while younger ones are counting steps:)
I realize new times for each of these social events are here also. Two F-35s roar off the Base 4 runway nearby. Parking is a scramble of bicycles, Teslas, tractors, and scooters, Harleys and Hondas. Other conversations around tables and on park benches surrounding the square speculate on our changing world, environment, political structure economies, and religion. I sit and take it all in (I did mention they also have wine, didn’t I?) and realize many of these people born and raised on Terceira have lived through one or two world wars; I admire them and sometimes wonder how I would fare in the trials and tribulations they survived through and still dance and sing?
Like my veteran amigos, I know I survived some trials and tribulations myself, albeit these are relative. But will I be singing and dancing a generation from now? We’ll see.
Amigos .. Happy Veteran’s Day!