Two years ago today...
Two years ago, I was sitting in my apartment and holding my daughter, who was two weeks old to the day. It was Marathon Day, and for the first time in my life, I wouldn't be there because Lola, duh. I wasn't at all bitter about it - as a two-week-old father, I knew where my ass belonged, and it wasn't in the middle of a city-wide party - but there was a burn to it, to that absence, because my best friend on this Earth was running the Boston Marathon for the first time.
I was tracking his progress via cell texts from his wife. At 2:49pm she texted, "wtf bombs?" and then went dark. She was OK, he was OK, their two boys were OK...but the news choppers were showing all the blood on the Boylston Street sidewalk outside the store where I bought my glasses, and the reality of events began to unfold, and you know the rest.
One year later, my best friend finished the race with the words "In Memory Of Mom," who he had recently lost to cancer, strong across his back. Several other friends who had been stopped before the finish line because of the bombing also ran again, and they finished the race.
And me? I run only when chased by someone I can't beat up...but I did go back to Boston for the Marathon last year, stayed with a dear friend, and saw the largest and most enthusiastic crowd I've ever seen at the event, and I've been attending Marathons since the Carter administration. I walked the last several miles of the course with another dear friend and just absorbed. It was a purging experience, and when I got home the next day, it was the first day I didn't choke up at the thought of what took place.
My best friend finished the race.
So did the city.
So did I.
In memory of Krystle Campbell, Martin Richard, Lingzi Lu, Sean Collier, and everyone who bore the brunt of that day.
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