In the reflection of candles, names are read out loud. This will be my third time.
My first time, I attended and didn't say or do much because I was overwhelmed with sadness. It's almost impossible not to be.
The second time, I tried to distract myself better by helping run an event and brushing off my rusty Spanish skills to read a few names.
This time, I'm attending again, but since last year, every 20 November, I remember the names that aren't read as much as the names that are.