June 6th.

I remember many things from today, but the event that touched me the most was when I was in grade 11.

I was doing a project on radiology. I have no idea what it was about to this day, but I remember driving with my dad and my best friend to Brandon to look at the department there, as it was the closest one available to us.

I vaguely recall touring the facility and then suddenly, my dad said,

“they had the baby”

I remember my brother’s shining face and the tiny little bundle of humanity in his arms, the love and the pride that filled him transformed him, somehow. It was a sight I’d never seen before that moment, but one I’ve never forgotten.

It was a stark contrast to the way most people remember June 6, and the dichotomy always stops me.

For me, this day means life and birth, but to many others around the world, it was a day that changed the tide of battle. Many soldiers died that day, in order to protect and serve those they loved.

Death to allow life to flourish.

And so on an ordinary Wednesday, I give thanks. For those who’ve died so that I can live freely, and to those who live who brighten my world.

Lest we forget.