In memorium

One year ago today...

Perhaps I'm just a sucker for anniversaries, to ascribing meaning to personally historic dates. The evening of Wednesday, April 26, 2006 was a pivotal point not only for me, but for an entire university community. It was a time of lost innocence, but more importantly it was a time of courage and grace amid grief. As the world around me unraveled, I discovered anew the ultimate insignificance of everything outside of relationships, outside of love.

The Virginia Tech shootings actually brought all of my feelings back with shocking intensity. No, the five slain Taylorites weren't senselessly gunned down by a bumbling madman (instead they were impaled by an overextending truck driver), but somehow I could relate to the Hokies. I know what it feels like to wander aimlessly around a college campus fresh on the heels of tragedy. I know what it's like to wait in agony for the names of the dead, all the while wondering if I really want to hear the list. And I know what it's like to graduate shortly thereafter, knowing that this event would define my college years.

I've heard several VaTech seniors ruminate on that last point in various news outlets. While I understand the regret such a circumstance triggers, I don't feel its a bad thing that the week of April 26 encapsulated my Taylor experience. I pray that the class of 2007 at Virginia Tech will experience the same freedom and perspective that only comes from surviving pain. The faces of the dead will never leave my subconscious, yet the memory of their lives will never cease to inspire me to make the most of my time here. Their lives and their passings beseech me to choose love, to laugh more, to be a better friend.

No one lives forever, but in the memories of our friends and families, we are immortal.

Laura, Betsy, Monica, Brad, Laurel... I remember.