|That's me in the yellow tank, running to raise money for Brigham & Women's Hospital, in 2001|
|Copley Square, just feet from the finish line|
I don't believe it is out of selfishness that we take tragedy and personalize it. I speak of my ties to Boston not to imply that I grieve more than you, but because in order to process any event, positive or negative, we need to make it our own. Here is what helped me to do so.
Several months ago, I wrote about the Earthquake Survival Kit that I had to pack for my daughter to keep at preschool. The canned tuna, flashlight, non-peanut peanut butter and family contact info was simple. It was the "encouraging letter from home" that stumped me, and did until today.
The packed bag remains in my kitchen. All the items are checked off, with the exception of the letter. As much as I love to write, every time I sit down to compose what could potentially be the last words my daughter will hear from her mother and father, I cry.
Back then, I asked myself how I communicate the words to my child that I knew could be my last, but also how I could not... Now I know.
I will think of the parents of that 8 year old boy and pray that they never left important words unspoken. Then, I will pick up my pen, and make sure I don't end up in the same boat.