Boston has never been “my city”. When I am away from it I do not long for its brick sidewalks or historical buildings around every corner, the silly accents or the Red Sox. Not the way I long for Chicago. Not the way I long for Minneapolis. This past week Boston has carried such a different feel. How could it not? We had a bombing. A terrorist attack. Which seems surreal. Bombings happen on the roads of Afghanistan, near the markets in Gaza Strip, the occasional ones occur in the subways of Europe. Terrorists attack happen, well they happen in New York City, but we all thought we were so much safer since then. Because who would expect a race? A place people go to celebrate the hard work pounding the numerous pavements months after months. A race where people strive to for those 26.2 miles and receive a medal to hang up on display at home and tell people ” I ran the Boston marathon, one of the most famous marathons in the world.” None of us expected it. And I think a lot of us still cannot believe it happened. I have never watched so much news in my life or constantly refreshed my Twitter hoping for new information from the Times or CNN, I watch the news and in the background I see the train station that I get off everyday to go to work or the Public Library that hold so much beauty. Places I walk by everyday. Seeing those images in the back I cannot help but think “Why would they do this to my city?” Maybe the brothers thought we would continue our lives in a Bostonian fashion. Bumping into those around us on the street without a care, not talking to one another on the train or staring at our phones as we wait to order our coffee. Things have been different lately. Standing in line for my cafe au lait people are communicating with one another, we’re sharing stories and smiling. Signs are posted everywhere with inspirational phrases “Boston Strong” or “Keep running for Boston” Organizations are getting volunteers to throw events to give to the ones wounded from the attack. People are running. People are running everywhere. Maybe it is because of the weather finally being warmer, but I think a lot of us are running for those who cannot anymore, running because we can, running to show the rest of the nation that we won’t forget this and we won’t stand for this to happen. This past week I have swelled with Boston pride because I have learned it’s one of the strongest cities, it’s one that gives in times of tragedy and puts our needs aside for others. And really what else could you ask for in a city you now call home?
asundaybrunch 