I’ve lived in New England most of my life, and until three years ago, in a small Massachusetts town not far from the Boston Marathon starting line in Hopkinton. It’s impossible to live in Massachusetts, and especially in MetroWest and not know a few runners, both official and unofficial.
Now that we live in Connecticut, we are a little more removed from Marathon madness. Still, around 2:30 yesterday, I thought about going online to see who had won, but got wrapped up in something else. An hour later, my route to a meeting took me past the TV monitor in the lobby.
Stunned. Sad. Sorrow. For the victims. For Boston. For the Marathon tradition.
And selfishly relieved that my son wasn’t with his father in Massachusetts for spring break.
Rationally, I know there was no chance they would have been near the finish line. Even though my ex often goes to watch the Marathon, he goes to Hopkinton or Framingham.
But I can’t help but be grateful that I was spared even a moment of wondering.
And so sad and so sorry for all those affected – in any way, no matter how small it may seem. Sorrow has no rules. We only own our personal response. Not someone else’s.
So be kind today. To others, but also to yourself.