Guest Post by: Bridget Staroscik O’Reilly

The streets of Rome are an amazing walk into the past. Yet for a city so steeped in the past Rome is one of the most vibrant and alive places on earth.  Each street is a new discovery. On one side you might see a modern apartment complex and on the other ancient ruins.

One of the best things about Rome is its walkablity. True you have the Metro for the longer treks, but the walks are what you will remember when you’re stuck at your desk in six months watching the rain fall outside. There is a freedom in Rome that comes from the fact that you can walk almost everywhere a visitor would want to go. There’s also the fact that a walk can sometimes take you where you never planned to go.

When you’re driving somewhere, especially in a city like Rome, where traffic can be a bit scary, you have to concentrate on the road. Because of this, you tend to go where you planned with little deviation. Even if you happen to see something you’d like to explore further, it gets pushed to another time.

Driving a car, which gives you so much freedom when traveling in the Italian countryside, becomes excess baggage in a city like Rome.  After all finding a parking space takes time. Who knows if you could even find that thing you glimpsed out the window by the time you manage to stop and park. Plus once you’ve parked, you’re tied to where the car is. First you need make sure everything is locked up tight so nothing gets stolen.

Then once you leave the car behind, you still have to worry about it. Woe to the person who wanders too far a field and loses the car entirely. Try explaining that to the rental agent.  I don’t imagine it would be a fun conversation. As any couple who has misplaced their car, rental or otherwise, can tell you; it is always the other person’s fault and there is no scenario in which you aren’t the other person.

Even if you know exactly where you parked, the car could still be gone. It probably won’t get stolen, but I assume, like most large cities, Rome tows cars that are parked illegally. At the very least I’m sure they ticket them. And yes in case you’re wondering, you are responsible for those parking tickets. They don’t disappear because you crumpled them up and threw them away. The rental company has your credit card number and they are not going to pay your parking tickets to be nice.

Trust me; you don’t need that kind of stress. You’re on vacation, so toss the roadmap aside and wander around Rome on foot. Pretty soon you’ll feel like a local. Maybe some guy will even come up to you outside of the train station looking all frazzled and ask you for directions. It happened to me on my second day of walking around Rome, and I have to tell you, it makes a person feel very cosmopolitan. Now isn’t that better than extra parking ticket charges on your credit card bill when you get home?

Guest Post by: Bridget Staroscik O’Reilly

I’d been wandering through the field of crosses for about fifteen minutes, pausing here and there to read a name and a date. I knew that our soldiers had fought in Italy during World War Two, but for some reason it never occurred to me that they would have been buried here.  In retrospect it made sense, but I still felt a little sad for these soldiers whose families probably were never able to visit their young man’s final resting place.

As I looked out over the sea of marble, something caught my eye and drew me closer.  It was an inscription like on all the other crosses, but this one had no date and no name. Instead it said simply ‘A Soldier of the Second World War Known Only to God.’ I felt the tears well up in my eyes.

Here in this beautiful place, at a time when I’m sure it was not at all beautiful, a young man had lost his life. A mother had lost her son, maybe a sibling had lost their brother. Perhaps a young girl had lost her sweetheart. As I had walked through this World War Two cemetery, almost all of the stones had brought up this same thought. This was different though. All of those people at home; the mom, the dad, the sister, brother and sweetheart… They never knew what had happened to him.

That thought stayed with me long after I left the Sicily-Rome American Cemetery. The hardest thing to do in life, for me anyway, is accepting what it is that I don’t know. That’s what these graves of the unknown soldiers represent to me, the not knowing.

The mothers whose sons just never came home; a sweetheart who held out hope that maybe someday he would return to her…  World War Two may seem like ancient history to many of us but to those who lost someone and those who’s loved ones were MIA the pain remains. These young men paid the ultimate price for the cost of freedom. And yet because their identities were lost in battle, there is no one to visit their graves.

I know Italy is filled with historical sights. A list of places to see and things to do can easily outstrip the time you have to spend there. Still, maybe instead of spending an afternoon wine tasting, you can visit these lost boys. Take a moment to stand by their marker and say a prayer. Maybe it seems like it was all so long ago, and for many of us it was literally before our lifetime. Yet no matter how long ago it was, the life you live is the one you choose to live. Whether you realize it or not, the fact that you have that choice is an incredible gift. A gift that was given to you at least in part, by a young soldier of the second world war, known only to God. Is it really too much to ask that you take some time to say thanks?

More info can be found on the Sicily-Rome American Cemetery and memorial at   http://www.abmc.gov/cemeteries/cemeteries/sr.php