snacky: (b strong)
Just to update, I am not near any of what's going down in Boston, my city is not on lockdown (although they've shut down all the trains and buses), and all my friends and family are safe, albeit a bit freaked out.

This is one crazy-ass, fucked up week. Goddamn. I can't even believe it.
snacky: (lilacs)
Thank you to everyone who called and texted and tweeted to check in with me yesterday. I wasn't in Boston. My nephew was down by the finish line, but he's fine. Understandably upset, but fine. He smartly called his parents immediately after it happened, before cell phone service was shut down, and they called the rest of the family, and we knew he was okay, but oh, it was still such a relief when he called me and I heard his voice.

I am just so relieved and thankful that everyone I know and love is okay, and so heartsick and grieving for those who weren't as lucky.

I used to live in Boston, and worked in Kenmore Square, ages ago. My company was always closed on Patriot's Day, as the Marathon route went right by our front door. But my coworkers and I used to go in and watch from the roof, and cheer the runners on. I've also waited at the finish line for friends, cheering on everyone who crossed.

And what keeps going through my mind is "Why? How could they do that? There are families there, there are kids there, don't they know that? Don't they understand? It's the Marathon!"

And of course they understood. Of course they knew that. They packed the explosives with projectiles, to do the most harm possible. They wanted to cause that kind of destruction, grief, and terror.

I don't think the answer to "why?" which I suppose will come when they catch the person responsible for this, will ever make any kind of sense to me.

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