neVer forgeT...April 16, 2007

Four years ago today, I drove to work at 9:30 in the morning, cursing the sudden bone-chilling cold, fighting the strong winds that pulled my car left and right, and watching the snow flurries dizzily flying.  Not long after, we would receive devastating news from my daughter, a student at Virginia Tech.  We dropped everything and headed south to Blacksburg.  That night and the day ahead would draw from us more tears than we ever believed our bodies could produce.

I will never forget it.

Last night I sought stories online about it.  I looked at the photographs again.  Tears streamed down my face before I even realized I was weeping.  I took the time to look at the faces of those who died.  I read about them, their lives and their families.  I was happy to find a photo of the survivors, all of whom radiated happiness and that was good.

I remembered being at the convocation and counting thirty two people on the floor of the auditorium as the University President, The US President, the Governor of Virginia and Nikki Giovanni spoke.  I could not wrap my mind around the terrible fact that so many people, most so tenderly young, were gone so suddenly and violently.

They woke up the day before, right here on this campus.  They went to class.  Yesterday, as I showered and got ready for work, they were having a normal morning, probably also cursing the return of the cold.

Haunting me the most were the stories told by police of wading through the worst carnage and hearing the shrill noise of cell phone after cell phone ringing and ringing and ringing.  Parents - calling to make sure their children were safe.  Parents who were not, that day, as fortunate as we were.  Students... children...who could not answer.

I still feel immensely grateful that my daughter survived and I still feel immeasurably guilty that thirty two families will today, and every April 16th, remember the events in a very different light.  My prayers are with them.

My daughter, now deployed, ran 3.2 miles somewhere halfway around the world, in a desert, to honor the dead.  A friend wrote on her wall that he ran in Afganistan.  Another ran in Texas.

They will never forget.  I will never forget.