On St. Patrick's Day, my brother woke up and headed to the Irish pub near his house in Wichita, KS. He ate a sandwich, downed some drinks and made small talk while texting friends about their party plans. He left early without fanfare, returned home, took out a gun and shot himself in the head. He left no note. We hadn't spoken in about 10 years, I'd hoped to find answers in his house but only found more questions.
Seven years earlier, the 4th largest earthquake ever recorded hit the Tōhoku region of Japan. A massive tsunami reached 6 miles inland. Resulting power outages triggered 3 nuclear meltdowns. Residents had only minutes to evacuate, many never received the alert. 20k dead. Thousands remain missing. 225k still displaced. Family homes destroyed. Pets abandoned. Heirlooms lost to the waves. I've spent most of the last decade trying to help, building a related non-profit and relocating my family to Japan.
Seemingly unrelated events which had a significant impact on my life, I find myself comparing them constantly. I see the lasting effects in the lives of those left behind. I feel the struggle, the potential.
Abrupt devastation. Unanswerable questions. Unfinished projects.
