Today, the weather is beautiful and warm, but don’t let it deceive you; it’s very unlike the cold, drizzly, gray day 8 years ago. I remember that day very well, as I’m sure many of my fellow Cantabrians do.
The earthquake struck as Jacqui and I were discussing iPods for Charlotte’s birthday. The quake was loud and violent, and it assaulted you no matter what you tried to do.
And then… quiet. A few seconds of it.
People’s voices, screaming, sobbing, sirens, alarms, all emerged from that silence as this cacophony responded to the call of the shock.
Today is an anniversary I am very uncomfortable with, and one I’d rather live without. The anxiety wells deep inside me for weeks beforehand. My nerves burn.
On the day, I am jittery, upset, flighty.
Eight years on, I am not the person I used to be. I know many others lost so much more, and I pray for peace and comfort for them. I don’t know if I’ll ever find that peace I seek for them.
But… at least today is warm and beautiful outside, and I’m alive.
Thank God for small miracles.
Beam Me Up, Scotty 
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