June 6th

I'm getting to be one of those old fuddy duddies who cries at the drop of a hat. I turned on the television this morning to have some background noise while I ate my bowl of oatmeal. I hate watching the news so I channel surfed for a movie, any movie other than having to watch Katie and Matt.

The Longest Day had a twenty minute head start, already into the scene where some guy “has a long mustache” and the French underground knows that it’s time to blow up a bridge. I make light of that, except that when I heard that line tears started to flow and I couldn’t explain why. Maybe it had to do with the date, today is June 6th, the anniversary of the invasion of Europe to retake what was once a free land

Perhaps Saving Private Ryan explained my tears. I remember the old man standing there in the cemetery with his family on the 50th anniversary of the D-Day invasion. All around him were the markers, those young men who had given their lives, their chance to roam this Earth, to have families with children and grandchildren all around them, their chance to enjoy the “good life”. This old man was cognizant of the sacrifices made in his behalf. He knew that he needed to live his life in such a way as to “deserve” the opportunity to live out his life based on his having known these men.

I am a generation removed from those events; the War to end all Wars may not have lived up to its billing. There are still oppressors and oppressed, there are still wars to be fought, wars that deprive young men of their chances to roam this Earth, to have families with children and grandchildren all around them, their chance to enjoy the good life. I am cognizant of the sacrifices made in my behalf. I only hope I can live my life in such a way as to deserve the opportunity. Maybe that’s why the tears flow so easily.