From Los Angeles to Boston


Right now I should be sleeping.  It is 1 am and my adrenaline levels are still high. Watching the coverage of the tragedy in Boston made what happened the past few days real and in your face.  In certain respects it reminded me of in the infamous car chase involving O.J. Simpson that forever changed what we watched on TV.  I was pregnant with my son Aaron and I was so captivated by the real life drama that unfolded on my kitchen TV 18 years ago that I forgot to make dinner.  Actually, that was more of a conscious choice.  I decided to watch the white Ford Bronco criss-cross the city instead of cooking. I was captivated that day, like I was today, but for different reasons.

The day after the unimaginable bombings at the Boston Marathon finish line, my son Evan called to reassure me that I shouldn’t worry about him leaving for the Boston the next day.  Shit, I had forgotten that he was going there for a work conference.

“Mom, don’t worry, I am probably going to what is now one of the safest places in the world right now.”

My anxiety about his trip led me to create imaginary, frightening scenarios in my head about his fate and mine.  But I won’t describe any of them.  It is bad luck.  So I shared my fears with no one.  Partly because their complexity was tinged with paranoia and partly because some of them are so absolutely ridiculous that I didn’t want to embarrass myself.

Today, Evan was safety ensconced (or should I say locked in) in his hotel in downtown Boston; he and a group of other graduate students were attending a scientific conference and we talked at least a couple of times.

“Please just keep in touch and if you change locations, I want you to call me,” I said half pleading, half demanding.

And I didn’t let on that I was very worried, at least to him. It was OK for him to know that I was concerned, I decided, but I didn’t want him to know that I was so anxious this morning that a little after I woke up, I almost fainted. My attempt to dismiss my fears, at least those in mind was pretty unsuccessful as my body was telling him in no uncertain terms that my distress signal had been activated.  So I was late for my scheduled workout at the gym.  I hate exercising and on top of that the gym TV is mounted in the corner, high up, close to the ceiling and when I arrived and throughout my workout, it was blasting updates from Boston almost as quickly as they became available. For me, there was no escape from the news that sickened my stomach.

My heart goes out to families and friends of the victims; those who died and those who were injured.  The nightmare of what happened to those they loved will probably change THEIR lives forever. For some people, it will provide them with a cause to pursue or perhaps just getting out of bed will be considered a major accomplishment.   Hard to say.  Difficult to predict any specific kind of repercussions as we are all individuals, with issues and pasts.

Then, late this evening (ET) the second suspect was caught.  I am somewhat relieved, but not entirely.  That will only happen when Evan’s jet from Boston has landed safely in LA this coming Thursday.  And again, I didn’t share my fears with anyone, including my husband.  What purpose would that have served?

As John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.”,  This holds true especially when you think about the lives that were lost on Monday during the Boston marathon. For it was on this past Monday morning that innocent runners participated in and spectators watched the Boston Marathon as planned.  You can bet every single one of them intended on returning home, wherever that may have been. And several will not.

But, knock on wood, Evan will come back this Thursday.  And we will chat more about his upcoming wedding scheduled for May 18 on the island of Oahu when he returns.  He may even share some “war” stories from Boston.

Hawaii is pretty in May.  But then again, so is Boston.

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