I had a recipe planned for today, but when I sat down to my computer last night, my heart just wasn’t in it. I don’t know anyone hurt or killed yesterday, though one friend had been sitting with her two daughters, the exact same ages as mine, at the very site of the bombings, cheering on their husband and dad as he completed the Boston Marathon. They were only a few blocks away when they heard the bombs. And that is just so very, very close to home, both figuratively and literally.
Everyone in and around Boston rallies around “Marathon Monday,” which is also Patriots Day in Massachusetts, a holiday commemorating the opening shots of the Revolutionary War in Concord and Lexington. I spent the sunny morning watching reenactors stroll around Concord (the town next to mine) in their colonial garb, and I played with my girls at the park, and had lunch outside with some good friends and their kids. A totally lovely, small-town America morning.
Maybe it feels extra awful to have had a morning where I felt so charmed to be exactly where I was and then have this tragedy happen right around the corner. Five years ago I was working about five blocks from the finish line and the site of the bombing.
I was scrolling through my Facebook feed last night and one after another person had posted angry or sympathetic or relieved updates to their statuses. And I came across one quote someone posted from Mr. Rogers.
I don’t know if it struck me because I adored him as a child and it reminded me of a time before things like this really hit you in the face. Or if it is because at times like this, amid the horror, there is also always a vein of courage and goodness as you see strangers helping strangers, and I want to cling to that goodness to help me squash the hysterical feeling that we’ll never really be safe and I’ll never be able to completely protect my daughters and loved ones from the bad in the world.
Apparently, Mr. Rogers’ mother told him when he was a boy, in times of disaster, to “look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” I read that and thought of watching on the news yesterday afternoon as emergency workers and civilians tore apart the steel barricades and grandstands with their bare hands to get to the wounded on the street. For every few people running to safety there was one running toward the blast to help.
And I guess that’s all I really have to say today. Look for the helpers. It was a potent reminder for me that amid the very dark in life, there is always some good trying to shine through.
