I always wanted to visit the historic site where the free world decided to finally fight back against tyranny, against what has been described again and again to me as “pure evil”. Although, interestingly enough, my grandfather, a man who had actually lived through it, did not see the situation quite that way. He would always tell me stories, not of hyperbolic mechanical monstrosities or unfeasibly grandiose armies or even horrific atrocities that questioned what it meant to be human, but rather of simple people doing their best to deal with such a complicated time. Yes, his tales, while not as loud and colorful as the movies continually portray the conflict, were meaningful and real. They reached both sides of the spectrum as well; the excitement of making a first of its kind journey and the horror of watching a man kill another over a crust of bread. Not a piece of bread, just the crust. Anyway, here I am, Normandy Beach. I do not speak the language, but the scenery makes me feel like I do not have to. Ancient-looking remnants of war are still scattered along the endless sand, coupled with shining newly-built monuments, admired by men and women of all ages and nationalities, to remind us of what transpired here a mere three-quarter century ago. Multiply that number a thousand-fold and you arrive at the approximate blood that was spilled that fateful day. Untold lives and untold stories. Once more beside the point. Here I am, the location where the infamous “Operation Overlord” transpired, holding an urn containing the ashes of my grandfather, and carrying along with me the heaviest of hearts. While there were understandably no sounds of joy coming from anywhere in the area, almost every single person enjoying the scenery was accompanied by at least one other person supporting them, something that made me feel wholly alone. The task I was embarking on did not seem to be of the sort one wishes to do alone, but here I am, quite alone.
Just as I wrapped up the thought, and almost in direct answer to my internal cry for support, I felt an icy cold hand on my shoulder that made me shiver ever so slightly. After my body shook itself awake, a reassuring and warm feeling swept through my very bones, and I instantaneously knew who stood behind me.
“Just as I remembered it.” A calm, strong voice whispered behind me, clearly having seen many years.
“It is as eerily beautiful as you described it.” I responded in kind, turning around to once again stare upon the familiar face that I loved so much. “Hey Grampy.” The two words barely managed to escape my lips before I slung an overeager arm out to embrace my grandfather, only for it to slide right through his body, managing to touch nothing but air on its way past.
“Well that is something you do not see everyday!” He cried out, chuckling to himself, as we both examined our hands thoroughly. “Guess this little extra time we get doesn’t include any touching.”
“Extra time?” I inquired, very much feeling as though I needed an explanation soon, lest my head explode into a cloud of smoke.
“Of course son, some kind soul up there saw fit to give me a few more precious moments with those I love.” My grandfather peered up to the majestic clouds floating miles overhead. “I wonder if your grandmother had anything to do with it. Either way, I am coming home soon my dear Ethel.”
I uneasily moved my gaze upwards as well, attempting to observe something other than puffs of white, but then quickly brought myself back to the situation at hand, as I realized it could be quite time-sensitive. “You said ‘moments’ Grampy, do you have any idea how long we have?”
He shook his head and pursed his lips. “It is probably best not to think about it.” He pointed in the direction of the metallic urn that I forgot rested tightly in the grip of my other hand. “Is that me?”
I met his eyes and nodded.
“It’s beautiful.” My grandfather gazed at the painted designs on the expertly-crafted piece of steel and shed a single tear that disappeared into nothingness before it managed to hit the sand below. “So tell me, when is the rest of the family coming, son?”
I refused to meet his line of sight this time. “They were all real busy. Couldn’t make it today. We were all at the funeral of course. It was wonderful.” I paused for a moment, but quickly decided to offer more reasoning when I saw the look on his face. “It is a really long way away from everybody, the airfare is not cheap, and we all thought it would be best if I made the trek out here alone.”
“I see…” My grandfather processed this information in a manner that was not visible to me, but I could tell it affected him to some degree. “Just as well, you were always my favorite.” He gave me the same wholesome wink he had given me so many times before.
To keep myself from getting too emotional, I decided to change the course of the conversation, to something I really did want to know. “So, Grampy, why did you want your ashes spread here so bad?”
Without so much as a word in response to my question, he turned and walked across the sand, not displacing so much as a single grain while doing so, and eventually sat down onto one of the many benches provided for relief along the beach. I followed his lead and positioned myself to his immediate left.
“I would like to attempt something.” My grandfather announced, in a tone that was strangely both confident and unsure. “Bear with me my boy.”
He raised his ghostly hand and steadily moved it closer to my temple, until I was sure he was about to reach directly through my skull. A mere instant before the inevitable moment of contact was made a bright white light filled my vision, and when it faded as quickly as it came, the scene around the bench had changed entirely. Uncountable numbers of soldiers, soaken to their very bones in salty water escaped floating metal coffins, only to be berated by whizzing bolts of death. Those that were not struck down instantly waded through the red-discolored ocean and sought momentary safety behind intricately sharp obstacles and small indentations blown into the sand. Blinding lights flashed at seemingly random intervals, eardrum-devastating noises erupted at the most inopportune times and particles of sand coupled with lung-filling smoke made it impossible to see past a few feet. The backdrop of this horrifyingly fantastical display were steel-plated behemoths drifting on the waves and ever-persistent winged-marvels charging towards danger against a strong wind. All at once, the carnage collapsed in on itself in a second flare of pure white and the peaceful beach returned to its normal state.
I sat motionless for a minute, collecting thoughts I never thought would need to be collected.
“I understand. Such a monumental day, such an unforgettable place…” I turned to meet my grandfather’s eyes. “It had to be here.”
Not a second after I spoke those words, I observed the beginning of a terrible occurrence.
“Grampy you’re…oh God, you’re disappearing!”
He studied the back of his hand with pure fascination. “So I am.”
“No no no.” I stammered. “I’m not ready. Not yet. I wasted all our time on silly questions.”
“They weren’t silly to me.” My grandfather smiled, his face so filled with care, barely mouthing his final words.
He was not able to finish the sentence, but I knew what it was, and I repeated it aloud, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. “I love you.”
For another moment I sat in place, unable to even begin to imagine the act of moving. Then, as the thought just formed in my mind, my ears picked up the faint sound of a word I was the least prepared to hear; my own name. I rose as if in a trance. Out of seemingly nowhere, an entire herd of similar-in-appearance foreigners stormed the beach from the wrong side, stopping just short of trampling me into the sand.
Catching their breath, one spoke up. “Hey there stranger.”
“What he means to say is, we’re so sorry we made you come here alone.” Another corrected.
A significantly older member cried out. “But we are here now!”
“And we would love nothing more than to spread those ashes with you.” A last individual smiled.
I held the urn that I had once again forgotten I was holding tightly in my arms and looked upwards into the swirling mass of white.
“I know Grampy would’ve loved that you call came.”
THE END
