My husband got up this morning and went for a long run, a tribute to those hurt by the Marathon bombs, and a statement: Live your life; it’s the only way to win this battle.
I was afraid, but I know we cannot live in fear, so I made myself leave the house this morning to go to the first day of my volunteer job. I made myself take the T and get on the bus, and I breathed deeply and thought, “We have to live our lives, or the bomber wins.”
The bus driver greeted each passenger with a genuine smile. People were gentle with one another, as if we were all bruised and raw and needed extra kindness, which was true. On either side of me on the T were newspapers open to the shocking story of our Marathon Monday horror, and I was horrified that the headlines seemed to have lost their ability to shock me. I was already used to this unthinkable event. It happened and nothing can undo it.
I want the bomber to be caught. I want to understand why someone thought it was okay to blow off limbs and fill people with shrapnel. As if knowing would make it less horrific. As if understanding would make me less afraid. I grasp at the hope that if that person were behind bars I would know the city is safe again.
But in truth it is as safe today as any day, and it was yesterday as well. I think of all the tragedies I have been touched by: the 1985 Mexico City earthquake when we didn’t know if my sister was alive for 3 long days, the 1989 San Francisco earthquake when I had driven over a bridge that collapsed a few minutes later, bombings in Paris, 9/11. I think of all the personal tragedies, illnesses, that have hit my friends and family with the force of pressure cooker bombs, all without warning, and I know the world is not ever going to be a completely safe place.
There are no guarantees and when tragedy strikes it is how we respond that matters. We may not be able to stop the bad but we can unleash a tidal wave of good, a flood of compassion to bring comfort, and yes, a sense of safety, back to the world. We must live as if there is no danger, for to live in fear is no life at all, and we must know deep in our hearts that good will rise up wherever danger dares to show its face.
I was feeling pretty calm by the time I got off the bus at work, but when I saw the flag flying at half-mast, the sadness overcame me again. Usually flying so high up and proud, it looked for all the world as if it were reaching down to comfort me, bent over but not broken.
I concur with the other commentators. I expect putting your thoughts to virtual “paper” helps to excise the fear that lurks within. I especially liked the last sentence. So moving.
Thanks so much, Dianne. It was therapeutic to write about it, and each day we get a little bit more back to “normal”.
Gosh Ellen! So touchingly put!
Ellen, what a wonderful piece of writing. And so very emotional to read. Even though for us the horrific events of Monday happened in a distant city, the sentiments you express are both touching and profound.
Just what I needed to read today!
Sad but true. Beautifully done. HH
Thanks for expressing so well what many of us are feeling Ellen.
Really well stated, Ellen! I know the entire country is bruised and raw with Bostonians and bruises heal slowly. We all know that life goes on, but we’re also compassionate to Boston and the victims of this horrific incident.
Thank you Lezli. I agree, this really has affected the whole country. It will take time but the love and compassion of the rest of the country and friends around the world really help so much.