Anniversaries are odd things, for weeks I’ve felt the presence of this day approaching like a dreaded examination or the promise of a storm. I knew that the moment of anniversary itself was likely to be tough, and it was – the memories of that painful day washed over in that minute of silence alright.
Today at 14:46 I stood under the Alta screen at the East Exit of Shinjuku station. It was a beautiful spring day, fresh and sunny, just like last year. When I hurried past there on my way home last year, the crowds were watching the first of the waves strike. Today we were watching the Emperor and various dignitaries at the National Gallery leading a minute of silence.
While today, and that minute especially, was full of sorrow, it also feels like perhaps we have passed the worst of it and that the deepest of the pain is beginning to dissipate. I hope that’s also true for the families whose lives were devasted by the tsunami. Today my wife and baby were with me, so our tears were chiefly for those families that were sundered forever.
The waters today have cleansed, not destroyed.
The storm has passed, and we’re gonna be OK.