My body still trembles with the memory of that day. The shrieks, the cries of helplessness, the howling winds, the surge. the mass of lifeless bodies, the wreck, the fear, the trauma. The memory lives on. For some, they only remember. For most, it is a continuous, excruciating journey of acceptance and moving on. For me, that day was a proof that I am privileged to live this life and I am a just a small pint of nature. That this life is perishable. That this body will not last forever, or even the length of days I imagined it to survive. To honor those who died ahead of me I will live and make this existence meaningful so that I can tell them stories when we meet again somewhere, if we do so.
May the dead rest in peace. May the living live, in all of the word's shallowest and deepest meanings.