I first came to Boston when I was
in middle school for a field trip. I fell in love with the streets that seemed
to start and end with no warning. The tall buildings that weren’t to tall to
strain my neck while I stared up at them.
When I was 15 I came back to visit
and knew it would be my future home. I rode the sprawling commuter rail and
wandered the frozen streets daydreaming of making it home.
I came back when I was 19 and started
making a life for myself. My knuckles were bloodied with how hard I pounded out
my new life. Boston isn’t an easy city to get started in, but I was determined.
I’ve lived all over Boston. I lived
in someone’s living room on the floor for 3 months just to get my foot in the
door. At night I’d go up to the roof and have a view of Fenway Park, lilt up
with crowds cheering. I’d smoke cigarette after cigarette waiting for the urge
to go back inside to come over me.
I left Boston for a couple of
years, but I came back. The city always called me back.
The second job I ever had in Boston
was at a spa, on Boylston Street. The spa was located at the finish line of the
Boston Marathon. The week leading up to the marathon we’d sit at the window
watching everyone set up. Scaffolding and bleachers unfolding and being
erected.
I left the spa, and over the years
the spa has moved farther down the street.
I’ve since worked at two other day
spas and salons in the area. Leaving behind me a lot of close friends and
acquaintances still working in the area.
I used to take my lunch and sit in
the park in Copley Square. Throwing pieces of my sandwich to the birds.
I’ve always made it a habit of
avoiding Boston on Marathon Monday. It can be a crowded and hard to get around
if you aren’t there to watch the race, and I’m not one for race watching. Or crowds.
I had just walked into a client’s
house when the news of explosions in Boston came on the tv. A tv that the
clients never leave on, but happened to be on this particular day. I sat
staring at the tv, finally knocking myself out of the stare I had fallen into.
I come home and tell Kh and her
friend about it. We all sit on our phones, reloading and reloading any news
page that’ll give us information on what’s going on. I don’t have cable.
I was truly in shock. Everything
seemed like a bad dream floating by. Everyone I know was touched in some way by
the tragic events; Boston’s a small city.
News comes about that a former
co-worker of mine was caught in the explosion, as was her teenage daughter. Her
daughter sustained injuries to her legs, while she lost both her legs from the
knees down. Unreal.
The rest of the week everyone
seemed to be holding their breathe. Waiting. Listening. Taking everything in
and trying to make sense of it all.
Friday morning Kh woke me up before
8am to watch the news. A shoot out in Watertown. We see pictures of the end of Kh’s
old street. All of the surrounding areas are put on lockdown. By 2pm we leave
the house to get some errands and work done. The streets aren’t empty, but its
scarce out.
Everything calms down by the end of
Friday night, but the ripples of what happened on Monday can still be felt.
Everyone’s on edge, relieved but still in shock. It’s all most people can talk
about.
One of the victims lived in my
town. Her memorial service took place at the funeral home down the street from
my house. I saw the mourners lining the streets and the heavy police presence
on Sunday.
It’s eerie for me to think about
how close I could have been to all of the events that went down. I’m in awe at
how quickly Boston stepped up to get justice. The entire city went on lockdown
until the suspect was apprehended. While I still haven’t formed an opinion on
how I feel about it all, I know I am disgusted in the evil that can exist
within a person. It’s devastating to think about those in other regions of the
world that suffer this form of injustice and brutality on a daily basis. It’s
those horrors we are spared from daily that make it ever more shocking when
incidents do happen.
I’ve been out of sorts lately. I’m
working on getting back. I need a few days of something terrible not happening
to really help with that.
Boston strong.
Sending big hugs and positive thoughts your way - it's crazy how everyone even around the world seems connected by just a few degrees of separation.
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http://kittysnooks.blogspot.ca
Big hugs and love!
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