Tuesday, June 20

When we decided to go to France, visiting the beaches of Normandy was non-negotiable for me, and thankfully everyone agreed anyway. Even so, it wouldn’t be accurate to say that we were “excited” for this part of the trip. Yes, we were looking forward to seeing the legendary battlefields; however, there was also a sense of privilege and honor, of obligation and respect – an awareness that our freedom and prosperity was bought by the blood of those who fought and died there.

Edited to add: I forgot to mention that, according to my mother, my paternal grandfather was in one of the amphibious vehicles that landed on the beaches of Normandy. I didn’t know him very well and have no way of verifying that, so if anyone out there knows for sure, please let me know. My maternal grandfather’s brother died during WWII in a flight training exercise in Florida. His family was never the same.

“You’ll notice that all the graves are facing west, facing home.”