This post is actually a mish mash of mostly new writing and an existing blog:
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So Mama Raw posted a lovely link on my page today (Oct 27th 2013) about the young girls, who are military kids, that have released a song to raise money for the Poppy Appeal. Obviously, I can relate.
However, what I cannot relate to are the nasty and spiteful comments that the Daily Fail site has attracted. I sometimes hate the internet and the people who hide behind their keyboards. I won't comment on the actual site because it will do no good and will only anger and upset me further - there are some battles even I can't win.
Like this song or not, these are wee girls who have to say goodbye to their daddies every few months, FOR a few months (sometimes years, actually) knowing they may never see them again. That's a lot to deal with when you're 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 and 19 years old.
Not only are they dealing with the usual shite that comes with being a kid at school (bullies, packed lunches v school dinners, shit labelled trainers, own brand supermarket crisps, perm v straight, etc) but they have this in the back of their minds too, every second of every day - the fact that their Daddy might never come home, ever again.
You tell me, what part of any of that deserves the venomous shite spouted about servicemen and women and the kids who adore and idolise them AND the parent left at home doing the jobs of two people and never bitching about it. Not once.
These people have probably never known a ‘knock at the door’. If they understood this, I feel they would have more compassion for our fallen men and women.
I am not happy that I understand the impact of ‘a knock at the door’. My Dad died, due to his Navy service, as I turned 19 (literally on my 19th birthday, any need?). That is no age to lose a parent. But you know what, my mum lost her Dad at the age of 17 so I already had a role model and knew that I would cope. My Mum coped. So would I.
"Oh look at those kids getting exposure just for winning a song contest...pat on the back to them..."
What people fail to understand is that I, and all those other kids, would give up every pat on every back, every pay rise in every shit job and every amazing opportunity afforded to us in the film, acting and/or singing world to have just 5 more minutes with our Dads, our heroes.
My mum is my heroine and she knows it. I just hope my Dad knows the place he holds in my heart. He died far too soon. I only hope he is watching from above and knows that he is the moral compass that I hold high, his is the humour barometer I hold aloft when my life is dark and his sense of outrage is the one I hang on to when I see that things are pish and need to be changed.
I am gobby. I am opinionated. I will effect change. I am a Raw. I always will be.
PS leave these wee kids alone to idolise their heroes. If you had any clue what it's like you wouldn't even question them, so fuck off.
