I told Satya today she must remember the smells, the way the sun looked, the smiles on people's faces, the conversations she had. She must construct her memories as they happen and file them away, not just for her grandchildren but for her great grandchildren.
I received this poem from Maya Angelou today:
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
We still have so far to go, so much work to do. We are so few. We are just starting. We will be remembered for bringing this day about. We will be asked to remember, too.