I stood on a stage today and I read about a storm somewhere in the North Atlantic ocean in June 1917.
I stood in the school playground on Friday with a woman from the Philippines and tried to offer her small comfort as she spoke of her worry for her husband who is uncontactable after the fearsome storm out there. She cried before her daughter came out and saw her. Her husband was looking after his elderly mother.
The world is so vast, and yet, so small. The world is in the schools I take the children to, the place I work and in my own family.
In my own family, on both sides, we have lost people to the wars that are remembered today. We have, I know, been lucky not to lose more.
And then there are those people who are fighting their own private battles, the ones we do not see. Like the mother in the playground on Friday, hiding her fears from her child so that they should not worry about their father in the Philippines.
Today, all of this has been not far from my mind. Tomorrow will be the same. A day of remembrance is a good thing, but for many people, it is not just today, or tomorrow, but every day, all year round.