Boston. 4/15/13

The news of Boston literally made me sick to my stomach.  First of all, I needed to find out what all happened.  Second of all, I needed to know who did it.  My first reaction?  Shock.  Second reaction?  Although authorities are still unsure of who is responsible, anger.  Serious anger.  I cannot get the face of this darling boy out of my head, and it doesn't matter who did it.

This sweet, eight year old boy waited to see his daddy cross the finish line of the Boston Marathon, the location where a devastating bomb, followed by another bomb, exploded.  He never got the chance to see his dad.  I have four kids.  My oldest will be seven this summer.  She is only a year younger, and I cannot even imagine.  The very thought of it has me wiping tears from my eyes.

The entire incident has angered so many, as it rightfully should.  My thoughts are always of the children, though.  What will the ramifications of this action cost?  How many children will suffer from ignorance and hatred?  How will this fuel American's hated towards an already hostile situation with Muslims, whether they were responsible or not??  How many children will be caught in the crossfire? American and Muslim.

Yesterday will be remembered.  Yesterday will be felt and heard.  Yesterday will hurt for a long time to come.

It's times like these that shake the very foundation of who, and what, we are.  Where we question everything.  It's confusing and frightening.  But like history has proven over and over again, this too will have to be resolved, one way or another.  It is my deepest desire and hope that whatever befalls us, there will be no more pain and suffering for children.  While unrealistic, this is my hope and dream.  It is nothing less than pure evil that can view innocent life with such little regard.

May justice be swift, and may it bring some restitution for those left suffering.