I am now thankful for my painful back. For weeks I have been cursing when I walk or move in the wrong direction, and yesterday morning I was unhappy at not working the marathon as it is something I enjoy doing every year. Now I feel blessed. I would have been right near where the first explosion occurred, right down the street from it.
In no way can I understand why yesterday’s events at the marathon happened. Patriot’s Day is a legal holiday in Massachusetts and the whole day is a celebration. It starts with the nighttime ride of Paul Revere, who this time is escorted by the state police, warning about the British coming. At 5:30 in the morning a reenactment begins on Lexington Green and another after that at Concord Bridge. At 11, the Sox play every year. The marathon is an all day event as runners cross the finish line sometimes as late as 7. Copley Square is the end of the race where the crowds wait, where the bleachers are and the VIP seats. The crowd is sometimes 5 or 6 people deep. Volunteers work the scene in all different ways identified by their colored jackets. Some stand on the street and just applaud and congratulate the runners. Many are in the medical tent and some have a wheel chair as their responsibility, and they walk the area with it in case a runner needs help.
I will never understand the mind which planned and carried out the bombings. An 8-year-old boy died. What sort of person finds satisfaction in the death of anyone let alone a small child. I wonder if the bomber is sitting in front of his TV watching the aftermath and enjoying his work. I so want this person found.
Miss Gracie and I will while away the day today. We will take a ride. It’s sunny and the sky is blue. I want to see the stirrings of spring on Cape Cod, stop for lunch somewhere and maybe take a few pictures. I want to see the ocean. I want to hear music on the radio. For a little while, I want some distance from this horrific event.
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