Nothing could have prepared me as I stood at one end of the dark bronzed pool. I am overwhelmed by feelings of sorrow. I consciously take my time to read many of the names of those who lost their lives now inscribed on bronze platelets. The traffic noise seems to recede, the significance of this memorial resonates deeply.

I watch intently as the water cascades down the wall as it flows into the centre. It runs off the edges into an abyss of infinity.

This forever reminder of what happened here. How these names will never be forgotten. I feel a huge sense of loss for the people who survived and for those families who lost their loved ones. How are they coping and managing their days seventeen years on?

I am reminded that each of us is but a droplet of water, as we continue to flow until it is time for us to leave this place.

I sit awhile on one of the cement squares scattered in the shade of the grove. In the hush of this peaceful space, I reflect, honour and pay tribute to this memorial.

Although sad, I am glad I came to visit. I am more aware than ever of how fragile life can be. How we need to pay daily attention to how we live. And most importantly how we can reach out to support and help others too.