a visitation

I was holding his hand but talking only to her. Somewhere deep inside I knew who he was and that he wouldn’t speak, but his grip was strong. I tried to look at him but I couldn’t focus on the figure before me.

Then I remembered and began to weep, my own silent sob waking me. The tears, hot and fresh, were real but his hand was imagined, though my palm still felt a warm impression, as if he’d really been there.

I closed my eyes, laid my head on my damp pillow, and tried to fall to back to sleep.

It’s not the first time he’s visited in my dreams, nor I expect, will it be the last. It’s a rare appearance but if these are the only moments I can still spend with him, I’ll have to take it them as they are.

I love you too Pop, come see me anytime.


my heart belongs to Boston

From my very earliest memories – listening to Red Sox games on the radio – I’ve loved Boston. Trips to the Aquarium and the Science Museum, Celtics and Bruins games at the Garden,  shopping in Quincy Market, riding the T, and of course, going to Fenway have just solidified how much I love it. I may not have a house in the city proper yet, but when someone asks where I’m from, I rarely mention the suburb I sleep in, I just say near Boston. Because, you know, it’s BOSTON.

I don’t really have the words to express how I feel about what happened at the Marathon because oh children…but I do know that Boston is strong and resilient, and well, pretty bad-ass. As horrifying as the event itself is, the response from everyone, everywhere, the outpouring of love and support for the runners and their loved ones, is equally extraordinary.

When I finished my little 2 mile running route early this morning I thought, okay now turn around and do that 13 more times. Yeah. That’s what marathon runners do. I have so much respect and awe for runners and the families that support their racing. Especially the ones who run the Boston Marathon with it’s crazy hills and even crazier residents lining the streets.

No matter how much someone out there wants us all to fear the city, they won’t win. I know that nothing is ever going to stop me from going to Boston, to sports events, out to dinner, to the museums, and maybe even to watch the next Boston Marathon. Maybe especially to watch the next Boston Marathon.

Photo Apr 17, 12 01 25 PM


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