I don't think I will forget very easily. I don't think I even want to. Maybe over time I will.
It has already begun to fade from memory. This year I had to look it up to confirm it is 25th, and not 26th.
The day when all those loose ends in life came together and broke into a crescendo, while I watched alone, from the audience.
Events prior had their culmination on this day, and events later, their origin.
Some would say, it is important to forget.
It is important to remember. Because it was one of the toughest tests of all time.
More than the surprise and horror of it all, it showed me how vulnerable I really am. All those pretensions were a myth. All those beliefs were someone's cruel joke. All those assurances were fake.
The awareness that I was indeed alone in the audience. The rest of the folk were an illusion that vanished when I looked around.
Though things did change hence, who can tell if they changed for better or worse?
What came out was the realisation that Bad things happen, there's not much we can do to avert it. Much of what we could do amounts to preparing for the inevitable and trying to cushion the fall.
Expect the worst.
Once you have walked through fire you are no longer afraid of a spark from the matchbox.
Remembering is important.
So that we don't forget there are thorns in the bed of roses.
The blood could always be washed away like Lady MacBeth did, but I do not know how many of them still walk in their sleep, trying to scrub their hands clean.