I am old enough to remember when Anzac Day was not a day widely acknowledged and revered.
I share the sentiments of professor of History at Monash University, Christina Twomey, when she wrote: "When I was a teenager in the 1980s, I would not have been seen dead wrapped in an Australian flag on Anzac Day. My friends and I never talked about including a trip to Gallipoli on a backpacking holiday."
I recall the moment that my attitude to Anzac Day shifted.
I was in a post-graduate tutorial and the lecturer, a feminist activist and writer, was telling us about the protests at Anzac Day in Australian cities from the late 1970s, where groups like Women Against Rape wanted to highlight war crimes against women.
My tutor told us that it became harder and harder to protest when the men got frailer and frailer. They stopped looking like soldiers and started looking like damaged humans.
For me, Anzac Day changed from a celebration of male aggression to a chance to reflect on the trauma war inflicts on men, women and children.
Generations split on the importance of Anzac Day
It's widely acknowledged that Anzac Day has become a more prominent event in the Australian calendar and seen the rise of more public events, political, media and public commentary.
As a result, there are more and more views about why this is the case. Certainly there are those that wonder if this indicates a rise in troubling nationalism, if you see this growing popularity as a negative development. Or patriotism, if you view it in a positive light. (One person's nationalism is always another person's patriotism.)
In focus groups I've conducted on attitudes to Anzac Day, I've listened to mixed views from older Australians.
Some have told me they wonder why we "celebrate" a military defeat, the senseless death of so many young men for the sake of the British Empire. Others feel chuffed their grandkids are interested in Australian history at all and relish the chance to tell them about their or their parents' war experiences.
There are mixed views from young Australians as well. They like the fact that the war contribution of women and Indigenous Australians is being highlighted more and that the day allows them to reflect on the sacrifice of previous generations.
There is a remarkable empathy with the horror of their antecedents, which makes Anzac Day a moment of quiet reflection rather than the celebration of war, violence and empire.
Controversy casts a shadow over our national days
When you turn to some of the publicly available research, the picture becomes even more complex.
In 2012 the Department of Veterans' Affairs conducted 36 focus groups to determine community attitudes ahead of Anzac Day's centenary.
According to the report participants expressed their concerns that Anzac Day had become all about yobbo behaviour, drinking to excess and playing two-up in the pub until late at night. They thought this detracted from the original spirit of the day and negatively impacted on the veteran commemorations and traditions.
The report was repudiated at the time by the then prime minister Julia Gillard. She said from her experiences attending dawn services in Melbourne, it was often the children who convinced their parents to go along.
"When you can see that kind of enthusiasm and embrace by our youngest Australians for commemorating Anzac Day and for what it means for them, then I think we can say as a nation it's an important part of our national identity," she said.
Australia has only two national holidays we see as intimately connected to our national identity — Anzac Day and Australia Day.
The latter attracts more controversy than the former, but a distinct shadow of sadness covers both days, albeit for different reasons.
'We need new moments of national celebration'
I recall a comment from an older man in one of my focus groups many years ago.
"I'm in my mid 70s and I hoped by now we would have found another day to celebrate as a nation which isn't about a horse race, a terrible military defeat or genocide," he said.
And I think he's right. We need new moments of national celebration. When we sign off on a treaty with our Indigenous nations. When we become a republic.
A natural reflection of our mixed and complex history. When I myself think of Anzac Day, the enduring image comes from Peter Weir's Gallipoli, a film I was shown at school when I was only 10 years old (that had a somewhat traumatising effect on me and my classmates).
That enduring image is of the sprinter and stockman Archy running hard towards Turkish guns.
A moment not to be celebrated but also not to be forgotten.