WEDS 7 JUNE 2023 0723HRS BST
79 years ago, it isn't ancient history. Of all the photos and video of the commemorations yesterday, one stays with me - a 97yo British man sitting in a wheelchair surrounded by French children holding 5x7in postcards of the former soldier as the young man he was 6th June 1944. Without his and his comrades-at-arms efforts, none of those children would be here and they knew it. Every one of those youngsters were extending their 5x7s at the gentleman for his autograph just as they would clamour for a rock or sports star's.
NEVER FORGET - NEVER AGAIN
It was a deeply moving photograph, nothing staged or false about the young faces looking at the man who is, clearly, to them, a living symbol of all the men and women who slogged up those beaches that day 79 years ago to liberate France and all Europe from the Nazis.
Several years ago, while I was still living in the US, I had a dream so vivid I was sure it was not a dream at all. I was at one of the French war cemeteries. I walked past row after row after row of white markers and finally came to a row where several soldiers in full formal dress were standing at attention, each next to a marker. The soldier on the row end marker turned to me so I could see his name tag matched the name on the marker.
He smiled at me, a peaceful yet weary smile, and he said 'We're not the heroes, not really. The real heroes are the boys who made it home and raised families, built businesses and cities and towns. They're the heroes, not us.'
Behind us I could hear footsteps and I turned to see who was coming. I saw an elderly man who de-aged with each step until he was a young man again in battle dress. The soldiers standing next to the markers came forward to give him a hero's welcome.
And in that moment I woke sitting up in bed, tears streaming down my face. In the years since that dream, I can't think of any more true statement than the lads who made it home and somehow found the courage to spend the rest of their lives raising families and building lives after what they went through during the war are the real heroes. For many the scars never healed, some of them needed 'extra help' and some never got that help. But they kept trying and THAT is why they were and are the real heroes.
Life. So robust yet so fragile...
It is the 21st century, SIDS (aka 'cot death' or 'crib death') isn't supposed to be a thing anymore. But it is and two nights ago an eight month old little boy lost his life.
My daughter-in-law's brother and his partner must be going through absolute hell. The extended family is shredded. As the mother of two, I can imagine the horror they're going through, this is every parent's nightmare.
There simply are no words of comfort at a time like this.
