No Happy Ending

This is a new week and new blog and a new topic. But in case you missed it, I need to update last week’s blog. You see, I actually wrote it last Sunday. Last Sunday on a plane. Last Sunday on a plane on the way to the Boston Marathon. So you already know how this sad story ends.

In case you missed it, Ellen Rogers wrote up a short news article about it last week. You can see it here. And I bring it up again for two reasons. First, I just wanted to say thank you to all the people—you overwhelmed me—who were kind enough to call and/or sent notes or email about it. I recognize that my family and I were extremely lucky as we were full block away when the bomb hit. It was just fate that we were already on our way to catch a plane back to D.C. and kept to that plan. It was basically impossible to get back to the bomb site to help and, within minutes, it was impossible to move anywhere in downtown Boston.

And to those who were worried about my sister and her husband, thank you. I was in constant contact with her the whole rest of the day as they stuck to their plan, too–to let the marathon runner get some recovery time before they headed home the next day. They got home to Delaware on Tuesday without any problems. And they, mercifully, missed seeing the bomb go off, which I think made it a bit easier for them.

But this story isn’t about me, or her, or any of us really and that’s the second reason I bring up this topic again. Other than jumping at loud noises and breaking out in a sweat in the mornings when they set off practice bombs at the nearby Quantico Marine base, I am fine. And I know that will soon fade, too. But for so many who were there, it can’t fade. It’s not a bad memory, it’s a new reality. And no one can fix any of that.

How do we fix this anyway? And if we can’t fix it, how do we stop it? How do we stop our babies from being gunned down in their kindergartens and 8-year-olds from being blown apart on a beautiful Spring days? And more importantly, how do we stop people from wanting to do these things?

I have no answers; I wish I did. All I can do is offer my prayers for the victims and for it all to stop.