D-Day 75

I’m moving away from the sappy, heartbreaking writing (see my previous post written on 3 June) to talk about this day in history, seventy-five years ago…

The “day of days.” The “longest day.” Arguably, the greatest invasion in military history. The day that the turning point of the Second World War began. Today we commemorate the Allied forces who made the ultimate sacrifices for the freedoms we continue to take for granted when they stormed the Normandy beaches on 6 June 1944.

(Side note: everyone wonders what the mysterious “D” stands for in “D-Day.” It simply means “day.” It was day “zero” of the invasion. Soldiers who continued to fight on the beaches after 6 June would add up the days they were there…D +1, D+2, etc...until they were sent elsewhere in Europe.)

The United States took the Omaha and Utah sector. Great Britain seized Gold and Sword. Canada overtook Juno. Together, they began the quest to end the rise of Fascism and Nazism that plagued Europe during the 1930s and 1940s. These veterans, whether they survived D-Day or not, are indeed the “greatest generation” because of their noble bravery, and today, especially, because this invasion was so successful - we salute them for their service.

Check out these links to educate yourself more about the D-Day commemorations:

Imperial War Museums: Read this organization’s story here.

View a memorial commemorating the Canadians who served on Juno Beach here.

Read more about this history nerd’s most admired WWII hero, Major Richard D. Winters, who jumped into Normandy with the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment as a member of Easy Company (Currahee!) through his obituary, published in the New York Times. Major Winters has an exhibit dedicated to him at the Hershey Derry Township Society Museum, as he was born, raised, and spent the rest of the life in this region of Central Pennsylvania. Check out the museum here.

This is Major Winters’s shadow box, on display at the Hershey Derry Township Society museum, along with other items from his amazing military career. Notice the “Currahee” patch on the top left corner. “Currahee” is a Cherokee word meaning “stand alone,” which really was prophetic for a paratrooper once he made a landing.

This one hit close to home. This article focuses on D-Day vets from Western Pennsylvania, where my dad’s family is from. You can read it here.

There’s a vet who decided to ‘reenact’ his parachute drop…seventy-five years after he initially landed in Normandy as a fresh-faced soldier. He’s 97 and still going strong. Read it here.

Here’s some British perspective for you. You can read about Prince Charles and his commemorations of the day here. You can also visit the Royal British Legion’s site for more knowledge.

#LestWeForget #DDay75 #DayOfDays

Many happy returns,

-Kate

and though she be but little, she is fierce.

Added to on 6 June 2019:

I don’t want to push him away. I don’t understand why he thinks I’m trying to “destroy” us. There’s nothing left of us to destroy, because he destroyed it first. I don’t get why he just can’t give me what I want so I may find inner peace. I know I deserve to be at peace. I decided, after this initial post was written, that I wasn’t going to continue to hold onto hope, contrary to what I told him after we’d played tennis. I told him that over the phone. I don’t think he liked hearing it, but I have let go of any hope…because I will never be happy with myself if I don’t.

I miss him so much. I miss his words, his smile, his arms, his kisses…everything. But I don’t know just how much he might miss me. In all honesty, (and there I go assuming again) my heart and my mind tell me that he doesn’t miss me one bit. He can’t even give me some reassurance that yes, maybe, just maybe, he does.

It’s breaking my heart to let go of that hope, since I was the one falling hopelessly in love. It, however, must happen.

I know I said I wouldn’t use this as a platform for my failed romantic endeavors, but…

I’m brokenhearted. Again. So it goes. I need to vent.

I had so much faith in him. So much. Is there such a thing as too much faith? My Catholicism has led me to believe that it is okay to have faith.

The better question is: Should I hold onto faith in him?

I honestly am in love with this man. I am. I fell, hard, and my heart is shattered. I thought…wow, after all this time, God has finally given me this blessing of this wonderful, handsome and intelligent man. This man wants me and my imperfections - his affections are mine.

How stupid I was to believe in his words. They were empty promises. The actual events leading up to the break-up are too much to go into detail. Reader’s Digest version: he got upset some guy hit on me at a bar, he was drunk, and he blamed me for letting the dude flirt with me (I really, really had no idea how to fend the guy off). He left me in the parking lot after I asked him if he was okay - he just brushed me off like whatever. I was so worried he would hurt himself or someone else by drunk driving. I texted him to make sure he made it home…

And he ripped me a new one. He told me horrible things that really made me start to doubt my mental state. He made me feel like everything was my fault and I spent a week, burrowed in bed, crying my heart out, wondering what did I do to ruin everything? That I was crazy for daring to believe someone like him would ever want someone like me.

He finally wanted to talk, after I’d sent him a pretty candid and honest letter about my feelings. He called me, surprise, surprise, on his way into DC on a Friday night, ready to cut loose, have fun, and forget about me. I had to pull over, because he was literally breaking up with me before going to do this. Probably thought I was just a weight off his shoulders - once the task was over, he could think clearly and enjoy his life again now that my presence was gone.

The man in question started to apologize for his abysmal behavior at the bar. He told me the situation was stupid and he didn’t think I did anything wrong to try and offend him. He apologized for his reactions and told me nothing was my fault - that I wasn’t crazy or emotional.

He then decided to say that the reason he’d been so distant was because he got scared. He, based on his word, decided he was catching feelings and was not emotionally ready to have a relationship with me (or anyone) because the divorce he’d gone through still had him hesitant about embarking on one. He let his guard down, for a second, with me - and then realized he could not be with me because of his emotional baggage. Again, he repeated, it was not because of me.

I can’t…I can’t help but feel like it was, even though he keeps telling me not to make assumptions. I can’t help but feel it’s my fault because he made the decision to leave. I’ve always struggled with feelings of inadequacy. That I’m never good enough for anyone. That my flaws are the reasons I’m twenty-seven and still single. That I’m nerdy, weird, prudish, ugly and unworthy…

So when a babe like him showed me attention and claimed that he wanted me, I really did struggle believing that he thought me beautiful, intelligent, and lovely. I hesitantly started to believe in his words. When he decided it was over, my doubts emerged once more and I just assumed he didn’t want to tell me that he decided I just wasn’t good enough.

I told him that I felt like I was losing him, despite his pleas not to blame myself. He told me he wasn’t going anywhere - that we should still get to know each other, take it slow, and be friends. That we could still go and play tennis together (we did, just yesterday, and I was a jerk, but I needed him to know I wasn’t about to be peachy-keen around him right away) and just have fun.

Which really, was how things should’ve started between us when he returned from Colombia in April. Instead, we jumped right into everything (and I mean everything) and I genuinely started to fall in love with him. I did.

So, can you blame me for wanting to blame myself? All of a sudden, he went from calling me his “beauty” and his “princess” to not wanting to even look at me. He told me he was so blessed to have me in his life - that I gave him “joy and peace” - to barely tolerating me this past week. Does he still have feelings for me, and now he’s doing his best to keep them in check so he can worry about himself? Or, did he stop liking me weeks ago and is now using what he told me on Friday as his “out” for this relationship?

I told him, after we’d played tennis, that I was still going to hold onto a little hope. A little faith. For my life, and for him.

He texted me later: “maybe you shouldn’t.”

That hurt. Again, is it because he doesn’t have any feelings for me at all? Or is it because he doesn’t want me to wait around forever? All I’ve wanted to do is talk rationally to him, but he won’t let me. I need closure. I deserve closure after the hell he has put me through. I cannot wait around for the rest of my life - I know this. What I also know is that I was willing to see where he and I truly could’ve ended up had we had been given more time to just be with each other.

My heart hurts when I picture him already, forgetting about me and flirting with other girls…he’s so handsome, he could have anyone. Why did he even want me? Did he see a vulnerable girl who has “self-esteem issues” written all over her face? Did he take pity on this history nerd and wonder why he decided to take a chance on her when she really was not the girl of his dreams?

I told him today that I was starting to fall in love with him. That all I wanted was just to see him happy and be by his side as he continued to fulfill his goals and aspirations - that he’s done so much already that he should be proud of. That I won’t hold onto my faith forever, but that he cannot tell me what I can and can’t think because he is not the one trying to hold onto the pieces of a broken heart right now. I wrote this all on a note that I stuck in a book - one he had recommended I read. It was called “Hopscotch” by the Argentinean writer Julio Cortázar. Cortázar was influenced by the James Joyce stream of consciousness writing style, so I was immediately hooked and wanted to check it out.

I decided I couldn’t read “Hopscotch” anymore without my heart aching over him. I have a strong connection to books - see my “All Things Must Pass” post - and “Hopscotch” is ruined for me now. With the note folded into the book, I left it in his mailbox outside of his classroom before he arrived in the morning.

He hasn’t said a word. Not one.

I doubt he will.

I’ve said my peace.

I hold onto a little faith.

For now.

Because I have to worry about me.

Me, and only me.

This is my journey. He could’ve shared in that journey and had my love for the rest of his life if he’d wanted it. Maybe I’ll find someone who won’t take my love for granted. Maybe he and I truly are destined to be - that we really are written in the stars and we will happen algún día. Who knows what the future will bring us?

I wish him the best. I want nothing more than for him to find some peace of mind, because his soul deserves to be fulfilled and at ease. He will always be in my prayers. I will always let God know to help him have a blessed day. That I will always be here for him, and carry a bit of him in my heart for always.

For now, I worry about me and succeeding in my life - the right here, right now. I take flight on my journey and make it wonderful.

Stay tuned for my post on my DC Monuments at Night excursion!

Many happy returns,

-Kate

musings.

Unexpected poetry writings by me, after a heartache filled long weekend:

Hindsight

those bright brown eyes
a flicker of love, a spark of affection
just a second of hope
now, gone for good
eyes cold and desolate
forever frozen in time
filled with contempt and the choice
to never look back at me
I should’ve guessed it wouldn’t last
just based by my luck in the past

Never

she was never the beauty
she was never desired
she was always pushed aside
in favour of someone better
so when he called her his beauty
she fell for him
and his lovely words
but then he broke her heart
oh, to quote kurt vonnegut,
so it bloody goes

many happy returns,
-Kate

All things must pass.

It’s been a while, my dear readers, and my life has made a total one-eighty since my last post. A month ago, I was insanely happy, writing about Rupert Brooke, my students did amazing on their reading standardized test, and to my most surprise, I started seeing the most wonderful man. This last change in my life came out of nowhere, but I thank God for this unexpected and brilliant blessing. It’s a fledgling relationship - it’s still so new, and we’re just trying to get to know each other at this point. It, however, is so nice to have someone who truly believes that my dreams are worth pursuing…and doesn’t have doubts in my talents and abilities.

Unfortunately, not everyone in my family sees these qualities in this man. This, combined with other things I am apparently, doing wrong in my life, has persuaded me to leave home and start anew. It is time for me to live my life. Is this man the absolute reason I’m leaving? No. I am twenty-seven years old and need to worry about me. I need to be able to make my own decisions and choices. I am naturally a people pleaser - I’ve always been like this. It’s a shortcoming, I realize, as I approach thirty…because I need to be strong enough to defend myself as I continue my adulthood. I need to stand up for myself and learn how to say “no.” I shouldn’t have to worry about disappointing or upsetting people by using the word no. I want to be able to date whomever I wish, come and go from home as I please, and pursue my teaching career without being criticized. It is time for me to be a little selfish and think about my life. If I don’t, any confidence I still have in myself will only disappear.

This realization doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less to pack away two bookcases worth of history books. I felt as if though I was packing away a part of me - books have always been a piece of my identity. My heart was breaking as I carefully organized my familiar historians; Kershaw, Kotkin, Overy, Coogan, etc. by their historical specialty (no lie: I seriously have a box labeled “postcolonial studies”) into drab cardboard boxes. I don’t have enough room where I am going to have bookshelves. They will be going into temporary storage while I settle into my new life. I have to be optimistic and realize that I am not hiding my identity by putting away my favorite books - I have to do it, just temporarily, to help me strengthen it.

I’m sure you can imagine that I must have a million different thoughts and anxieties bouncing around in my head as I make sense of this abrupt change. I didn’t think an innocent relationship would spark the need for me to leave home. I thought I’d get to continue my life as it was, just enjoying this man’s company, finishing off my first year of teaching, and being with my family. I was 100% wrong, and as a result, I’m absolutely not myself. I find myself worrying so much about everything, including him. I get scared that if one day he doesn’t want to see me, it just means he wants nothing at all to do with me. I shouldn’t think that, because if we were seeing each other every day, we would get sick of the constant company. I shouldn’t think that because it is not in his nature to be uncaring. He’s the most empathetic and faithful man I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, but this situation I’m in isn’t allowing me to think straight and logically. He promised me, before things between us really developed, that he would do his best to be the nicest to me - to trust him. There is no reason I shouldn’t believe in his promise. I want nothing more than to hold on to that promise, because I really do trust his good and God-fearing nature.

“All things must pass
None of life’s strings can last
So I must be on my way
And face another day”

— George Harrison, from "All Things Must Pass"

To be candid: I’ve been an asshole, and he doesn’t deserve that. I need to just take a deep breath and take each day with him as it comes. It doesn’t matter in what form he’s in - text, voice, in person, in my dreams…I know he’s there. I know I can and should rely on him, because I do believe in his simple promise to trust him. That’s all I could ever want from someone I’m seeing. Gifts and gestures are nothing to me - I prefer promises and words.

If you are reading this, please do know that I am sorry for being a burden, because that is the last thing I have wanted to be to you.

I am stronger that I am giving myself credit for, and I know I can stand up on my own. I know I can make it through this tough time. God is guiding me because this is His plan. The only plan I want to follow is God’s. Not my father’s. Not my mother’s - just God’s. I may not feel like a history nerd without my favorite books at my finger tips, but this is only temporary. I’ll be reunited with those books soon. My family will, if not accept, but hopefully respect my decisions one day. I’ll move into my new place and be independent. I will continue to believe in his promise as we get to know each other and take it slow.

I’ve been thinking about the adage “this, too, shall pass” as I get through this crazy time. It’s been helping me every day, but then I was reminded about the song “All Things Must Pass” from the eponymous solo album by George Harrison. I think this phrase is better applied to my situation. It’s not just one thing I’m fighting - it’s several of them - and it’s true. I’ll come out stronger. I’ll emerge victorious…because all things must (and will) pass.

Many happy returns,

-Kate