Boston Strong

I wasn’t sure I wanted to write anything here about the tragic even that happened in Boston yesterday. The explosions went off around 2:50PM, I hurriedly left work an hour later, and I stayed glued to the TV all night until John finally came home at 8:30PM. It was a confusing, chaotic day and night. It was basically all a blur. Until I woke up this morning with the heaviest heart I have ever experienced, and I immediately burst into tears.

I was born and raised in Boston. I’ve lived here all my life. For 30 years I have never known anything else. I’ve never needed to. As a teenager I spent every free moment taking the T in to Central, Kendall, and Harvard Squares. I moved to Boston proper when I started college in 2000 and lived in the city for four years. During those years I worked at the Boston Public Library. Just steps from where the bombs went off yesterday. I watched the news footage, remembering the years I lived and worked in the exact spot that now looked like a war-zone. How? Why?

The frustration and terror that come with this uncertainty – could I lose a piece of my home? could I lose someone I love? – is exactly why awful, evil people perpetrate these acts: to destroy, to scare, to belittle, to control. As John wiped away my tears this morning he said “this is what they want, for everyone to be scared.” And he’s right but I’m still scared.

I could go on about how sad I am that one of my favorite days of the year (Marathon Monday) will never be the same again, how angry I am for everyone who worked so hard to make the marathon happen, how amazing the first responders were, how generous Bostonians have been in the recovery efforts – but it’s all obvious. Plus, so many others have said finer words than I can about this subject (Patton Oswalt, for one).

I will say that my love for my city is unwavering. I know that in time we will make sense of our despair. That somehow, someday everything will feel normal again. Until then I’m proud and relieved to have the best city in the world to lean on. Boston, you’re my home.


Author: Domestocrat

I'm a lady who enjoys photography, football, cooking, long drives with the windows down, This American Life, kettlecorn, hot yoga, pop punk, my nephews, my cat Reggie, and my home: Boston.

7 thoughts

  1. Many prayers to you and your city and all the people affected by this senseless act of terror and violence. Sending you all love, hope, and light. xx

  2. K, thank you for this beautiful, needed post. I really appreciate the perspective of ppl born and bred into this city – Boston is an adopted city for me, the one I really identify with in my adulthood, but it IS home to me. Even from all the way up here in Salem.

    I think everyone is still processing. It’s scary. It’s tragic. It’s fucking maddening. And I too have clung to the stories of extraordinary heroism and tiny acts of compassion and kindness the city has shown the victims, city workers, first-responders, and medical personnel. It’s downright humbling and I can’t help but smile in awe of the selflessness of this city to its people: residents, visitors or otherwise.

    1. Home is where the heart is, it’s totally relative.
      You’re so right – we have to find hope where hope exists. It’s the only thing that gets people through things like this. Take care and thank you for commenting!

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