beauty and horror

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from my visit to the Arlington Cemetery. I haven’t visited many cemeteries to go sightseeing, nor would I want to. Something about being a tourist at a cemetery seems a bit twisted and odd to me, yet I was a tourist today and was also one when I visited the Normandy Cemetery while in France. In both instances, today and in Normandy, I felt overwhelmed by the landscape that sprawled out in all directions around me. I couldn’t quite manage to connect the image of the endless tombstones with the actual concept of each grave signifying a lost life; it’s quite a sight to behold. As I walked through Arlington Cemetery today, I took a moment to focus on just one row of headstones out of the hundreds. I tried to imagine each grave as a living human being with a family, a job, a history, and a passion to fight for and protect our nation. Keeping the worksheet in mind, I thought about how each life ended while taking measures to increase The United States security. I would never and could never willingly do the same. It’s a lot to wrap your head around and I definitely did not 100% succumb to the many emotions that I was feeling. It’s just sad – any cemetery is. When thinking about my experience as a visitor and how it relates to power, I realized that my visit made me feel powerless. I felt so small walking the paths through Arlington today. Every bit of the scenery, from the massive trees, to the infinite headstones, to the towering memorials, to the iron gate, made me realize how miniscule I am in the great scheme of things. I found a clash of both beauty and horror in today’s visit, yet I feel that this clash is necessary if one wishes to grasp the full magnitude of the cemetery and what lies within it’s gates.