As the first flowers begin to bloom and potholes proliferate, life in Lewiston seems normal.

Then a glimpse of a “Lewiston Strong” sign in a window or an overheard snatch of somber conversation at Hannaford or the sound of sirens wailing in the distance brings it all back.

Six months have somehow passed since that gruesome night in October when a tortured soul opened fire with a rifle designed for slaughter, leaving 18 random people dead, more than a dozen wounded and everyone trying to grasp why these things happen.

Time has not done much to further that understanding.

I have talked to many people who survived the shootings, some mauled by bullets and others shattered in spirit. They have one thing in common: A commitment to try to make the best of the life they almost lost.

Many are angry at the police and the military for failing to stop the shooter they knew posed a threat. Some are mad that powerful guns are so easily obtained or that mental health care is so limited.

Others just write it off as one of those things, almost a force of nature that nobody could have predicted or prevented.

There is truth in whatever they feel.

I am not sure what to think. I just know there is a gnawing ache and a deep sadness at what transpired in that 15-minute span Oct. 25.

Lewiston’s death toll landed it on the national news for a few days. But for most Americans, what happened here has already fallen into the great fog of old news.

In Maine, though, it is impossible to consign it to history.

For those of us in this community, that day will forever remain among the darkest in our lives.

It should also be a continuing call for more love and greater kindness because we learned, painfully, how much we all mean to one another.

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Editorial cartoon for Friday, April 26, 2024