My parents grew up in England during World War II. They used to tell me about the air raid sirens that sounded at night alerting them to seek shelter, quickly.
I often asked them about this, thinking they must still be haunted by the thought of bombs dropping on them as they slept.
But they said it was normal to them. It was all they ever knew.
That has always stuck with me.
It makes me wonder how many things we accept simply because we’ve never known any different.