This weekend my parents and I took a trip to Normady, a NW region of France. We stayed in a small city, Bayeux, and spent Saturday touring the WWII D-day beaches. I have been hearing about that infamous day for most of my life, and since living here have heard numerous accounts of visiting the region, but what I did not expect was how real it would be to see it all in person, how easy it might be to picture oneself as a participant of the horrific events unfolding on that day. I have always enjoyed history and knowing meaningful stories from the past, but make a point to not see movies or read books specifically about war. I know that it exists in the world, but I find it easy to keep an emotional distance by not personally connecting with the dark parts of humanity. I think war is terrible, but also think that it is sometimes necessary. As I was walking along the beach where you look up the hill into German bunkers and guns, standing in a bomb crater on Point du Hoc where Colonel Rudder's (whoop!)rangers overtook the canons between Omaha & Utah beach, and observing the bullet holes still visibile in the walls of St. Mere Eglise where the paratroopers were dropped...I found it hard to keep my distance. These things are all too real. The young men who fought, against many many unfavorable elements, liberated France and ultimately defeat Hitler (who was in the end responsible for 50 million lives lost). I feel blessed to have experienced this piece of history and now more fully understand the costly price of freedom.