“Seventy-four years ago, on a bright cloudless morning, death fell from the sky and the world was changed. A flash of light and a wall of fire destroyed a city and demonstrated that mankind possessed the means to destroy itself.--Mere words cannot give voice to such suffering. But we have a shared responsibility to look directly into the eye of history and ask what we must do differently to curb such suffering again." - U.S. President Barack Obama, 2016
Dear Hiroko Iwami,
Your words have reached my small corner of the world. I am currently serving as a Literacy Advisor for Peace Corps Jamaica. I am twenty-three and often wonder if I undervalue the life I am living because everyday has been guaranteed.
Today is August 5, 2019. Tonight, I will carry through my typical evening routine. Eat dinner. Watch television. Brush my teeth. Wish my family goodnight. Scroll through social media. Lay down for sleep. These everyday life tasks feel like givens. A guaranteed tomorrow.
August 6, 1945. You were excited for a fresh chapter in your new home. Did your parents wake you with a gentle call of your name that morning? Was the anticipation of moving somewhere new so strong that you woke up extra early? Did your family eat breakfast together? Did you watch the world go by as you travelled by train or car? These should be your givens from this day. Instead, your guaranteed tomorrow was destroyed.
Despite everything that could give you reason to merely survive, you chose to live. The proof is in your two daughters. You chose to accept love and create new givens for them. I hope your daughters share with others just how precious seemingly small tasks are in our everyday lives. I hope they describe in detail the beauty of each new day. I hope they know that their mother is strong-willed because despite surviving, you chose to live again Hiroko.
August 6, 2019. I will wake up and hold everything I love closer to my heart.
Warmest Regards,
Sebrina Elaine Arruda
August 5, 2019