#524: All Messed Up

Spring Vacation.
Patriots’ Day.
Running the Boston Marathon.
Oh, he’s run marathons before–
Hyannis, New York, Niagara Falls, Dublin,
but never Boston, never the iconic race.
 A dream about to be fulfilled.
Trying on the jacket so he knows what size to order
when he finishes.

Dinner out with the wife and kids,
a good night’s sleep at a friend’s house then

a cab ride to the bus that will take him to Hopkinton.
We waited in the family waiting area, 
a block over from the finish line.
Heard the explosions, stunned into silence.

Triumph turned to sorrow and grief.

He was still a half mile out when they told him the race was over.
So he hiked in, found us, hugs all around.
We walked to South Station and caught the train
to Washington.
The sun sets out the train window
on a sadder world.
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3 responses

  1. Oh my I am so sorry you were so closely effected by all of this. My brother was up there wandering around after the Red Sox game…I was frantically trying to give him info over the phone, as the people walking around were so uninformed, as I'm sure you felt as well. So close to home no matter where yo live in this world I suppose. I always say everything on Earth happens for a reason. I'm not so sure why the violence had to occur, but I do know in my heart that somehow your husband was meant to be a part of the bigger picture. perhaps the ability to help others heal while you are healing? You are in my thoughts. Have a peaceful Sunday.

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