Yesterday was the 119th Boston Marathon. I watched the marathon’s live stream worked while friends did amazing things in less-than-ideal weather. It’s been two years since bombs went off at the finish line, destroying lives and permanently changing many others. Earlier this month, the surviving bomber was found guilty of all charges against him; today the penalty phase starts, when the jury will be tasked with determining whether he dies or spends life in prison.
There is no real “closure” in tragedy. When someone is brought to justice, it doesn’t bring back the victims and remove their loved ones’ pain. I tend to think the only thing to do is to keep living in honor of the ones who died too early. Two years ago, hours after the Boston bombing, I wrote, “Life should be lived, and dreams should come true.” I still believe that, and I just re-read that post of mine. Every bit of it resonates with me just as much, perhaps even more today.
Maybe it’s ego-centric, but that piece about Boston is today’s Tuesday time-waster. I wrote it when I had one of those magical urges to write — when they come, if I have the opportunity to sit down and write, magic happens. The words come from somewhere deep inside, from a place I only wish I could tap into at will.
