Whether in Boston in fact or in spirit, countless people are connected to the events of the storied Boston Marathon on any given Patriots’ Day. But on April 15, 2013, the people of Boston found themselves experiencing firsthand what people around the world were watching on their televisions and computer screens.

Everyone has a story. Those who had loved ones running. Those at the finish line at 2:49 p.m. Those who heard the news and simply couldn’t believe that this could happen in our backyard. Those who “would have been right there, if not for [insert small twist of fate here].” The runners themselves.

For me, that story took an unexpected turn from my vantage point on Boylston Street. Standing in front of a Dunkin Donuts right across the street from the Lenox Hotel, I was almost squarely between the two blasts. From the ground trembling beneath my feet to the ear-splitting, heart-wrenching bangs, I felt the reverberations from the explosions that led to a wave of terror, shock, and numbness. Since that moment, a part of me has become inextricably linked to my experience that day. Right then and there, I was both confronted with the fragility of human life and comforted by witnessing those whose immediate inclination was to help everyone around them. It is something I will never forget.

A year later, all you have to do is walk down the street and see reminders of last year—marathon jackets on the backs of dedicated runners, “Boston Strong” t-shirts hanging from the stands of vendors in Harvard Square, and even the blooming of bright yellow daffodils once again. It is easy to let this time become a source of sadness and flashback, but I have realized that it is far more important to channel all of these reminders into solidifying the lessons I have learned through the healing process in the last year.

So today, I hope to share just a few of my own thoughts on the positive things that emerged from that tragic day. I certainly do not claim to speak for everyone who was affected in some way; I simply hope to let you pause and consider what we can learn from that day and from each other. While it was an ordeal I would never wish upon anyone, it also offered me the gift of a newfound perspective—an urgency for living life to the fullest.

More than anything, I realized that nothing in this world matters more than the family and friends I treasure deeply. You can bet that my family was the first thing to come to my mind amidst the explosions. At the end of the day, life is about cherishing the people with whom we share our joys and sorrows, laughs and tears, and successes and setbacks. If there’s anything you take away from this piece, let it be this—make sure those people in your life know how much they mean to you. Don’t wait to let people know that you love them.

Another striking product of my experience was the poignant reminder that tomorrow is never guaranteed. When you realize that life can be taken from you in an instant, you remember that each day truly is a gift. Life is too short not to do what makes you happy.

One of the most resounding messages in the last year has been “Boston Strong.” To me, this is a message of community and solidarity. While it does not mean that we all have to be strong all the time, it means that together we are able to support each other. Together we are strong. Together. This is a lesson for all communities, including our own community here at Harvard.

“Vulnerable” is perhaps the most accurate term to describe how I felt on Boylston Street last April 15. And in the days and months that followed, it was difficult to feel vulnerable to my memories and to struggle when they inevitably surfaced. Especially at a place like Harvard, where it is so easy to get caught up in the façade of perfection, it is challenging to allow ourselves to open up to those around us. But this mistaken belief that everyone else has it all together just makes honest conversation even more critical. It took me a while, but I realized that it’s okay to not always be okay. Don’t be afraid to speak up, be honest, and listen in return.

Ultimately, the last year has shown the fundamental goodness of humanity. I have so much admiration for all the first responders, doctors, caregivers, and spectators who ran toward the injured. Their selfless actions exemplified what it means to care for each other. Most of all, the survivors themselves have displayed a remarkable persistence of spirit. People are truly incredible.

So with this anniversary, take time to reflect on what April 15, 2013, meant to you and the community you live in. Talk to your friends about their experiences. In doing so, we honor the victims, the survivors, and their families who are still recovering every day.

There are rare moments that transcend any lines that we draw between ourselves, and this is one of them. This binds us all together.

Let us not forget the lessons we learned just a short year ago. Tell your family you love them. Spend that extra time with your friends. Think about what it is you’re passionate about, and stop waiting to pursue it. Give back to your community. Cheer on the runners today. Lace up your running shoes if you feel like it. Do what makes you happy.

And most importantly, remember.

Kyle G. Krueger ’14 is an applied mathematics concentrator in Eliot House.