My heart is hurting tonight for those in Boston; for the runners who train so hard and so long and put their blood, sweat, and tears into a marathon that must mean the world to them.
I learned of the explosions on the way home from work. I called my mom to check on her well being. Upon answering the phone, and instead of her usual ‘hello’, she immediately inquired if I was okay.
“Yea, I’m fine. I’m okay. Why?” I laughed.
“There’s been a terrorist attack in Boston.”
It didn’t occur to me until later; I’m nowhere near Boston. And, although I toyed with the idea of moving near there a year or two before moving to Arkansas {I’m pretty sure I NEVER dared mention that little tidbit to my parents}, I’ve never even been to Boston.
So why then, was my mother concerned about my safety?
I guess the answer is because I’ll always be that little girl.
It’s hard being away from family when stuff like this happens. It’s hard to not be able to immediately wrap your arms around your loved ones and keep them close and safe.
I get that. I really, really do.
For now, phone calls will have to do. And, Skype. And, random snail mail.
I must work being present in my family’s lives and letting them know that I’ll always be there even if it’s just in voice and spirit.
I read this last night and called my dad on the way home……great post
Liz
The first thing I did on 911, when I realized what was happening, was to call my Mom and talk to her. i think it's our nature to seek out those we're closest to in such times. Yesterday, I sent Bart a text, even though I knew he was in meetings all day at work. We need the positive reassurance in troubled times. At heart, we're all just little kids in some ways.