I may have been born in Connecticut, lived the first three and a half years of my life in Rhode Island, and be considered a “wash-ashore” on Cape Cod, but Boston is my city.
Any person who grew up in Massachusetts knows that Boston is a special place. A trip to the city as a child to visit the Museum of Science; a school field trip to the Museum of Fine Arts; high school drama festivals; a road trip with college friends for a night out in the clubs; a date at Fenway Park; getting lost on one way streets that weren’t there the last time you went; riding the T from Braintree to Copley Square and then walking up Newbury Street to window shop; concerts at the Garden (both old and new); visiting friends and family who now live in the city; watching the Marathon – all things that people who live in Massachusetts have done and look forward to doing again as often as you can.
Countless memories of happiness come to mind when I think of Boston, my capital city, full of history and strength.
Then today, my husband called me to tell me what he just heard on the radio on his drive home from Boston, where he works. I thought of my brother and sister-in-law who live and work in the city, my other sister-in-law and her boyfriend who also live and work near the city, of friends who work in the city, of friends who might have been running or cheering people on, of the innocent bystanders. I prayed that it wasn’t the worst case scenario but when I got home from a play date for the Daughter and was able to turn on the news quietly while she innocently watched Curious George, I realized it was bad.
So many images, thoughts, prayers, news reports, and other various outpourings of emotions of have been flooding my Facebook wall. I was brought close to tears and definitely had goosebumps after watching some of the reports, especially the reports from later in the evening (namely the Boston Globe’s post of pictures from the scene, of which I am not including a link because they are very graphic and I almost regret looking at them). It’s not surprising either that I would have this feeling considering how many times I have been to that city. It’s not a surprise that the people I am friends with have a deep personal connection with Boston as well. Not only those people but also friends I have made in other places of the country, people and business I don’t personally know, everyone is showing what America is truly about.
We must stand together. We must not be afraid. We must mourn for the loss of innocent lives and the injured but then we must honor their memories and their sacrifice by continuing forward. We must stare this evil darkness in the face and show that we are stronger. Whether through prayer, through kind acts, or through support in whatever way you feel you can give, those are the ways that we show that we are stronger and that we will prevail against these random acts of hate and violence.