What a week.
I was in Boston on the day of the marathon. I had briefly considered bringing in the kids to watch it, but quickly decided that was insane and we went to Castle Island instead. I was on the other side of the city, but I was still shaken by the fact that I was there.
Once I got home and stalked the two people I knew that were running the race, finally confirming they were both okay, I watched as much news as I could. It's not easy to watch when you are also trying to keep the news from your preschooler. She probably knows too much and I missed a lot.
I can't quite put my feelings into words, but I'm pissed off that "my" city was the target of a terrorist attack. I don't live within Boston city limits, but I grew up 3 miles from the Dorchester/Quincy line. The town where I now live shares a border with Boston. I spent my childhood looking at the skyline. Going into Boston was never a big deal for me because it's right there. My friends and I used to take the train into Newbury Street starting in 7th grade. I did the whole bar/clubbing scene every weekend right after I graduated from college. I went to UMass Boston for grad school. We've taken our children into the Science Museum, the Aquarium, Faniuel Hall, and other kid friendly places. In fact both my babies were born in one of the hospitals that went into overdrive treating the victims. Obviously I cheer for the Boston sports teams (except the Celtics. While I'm a general wisher in that I don't wish them any specific harm, I just cannot get into basketball. And I'm okay with that). So Boston is my city. And I'd like to dropkick those terrorists into next week. I wish #1 had lived, death is not punishment enough.