Home again

Our trip to Boston was so incredible.  It was fun because it was a vacation, but it was so deeply moving and healing as well.  From the time we touched down in Boston, we were greeted by total strangers and signs everywhere welcoming us back to Boston.  Mark was wearing his Boston jacket from last year, which is a natural conversation starter.  The whole city was alive with a spirit of strength and rebirth.  Boston needed the runners to come back, and the runners needed the city of Boston to show its strength by making the marathon go on as planned.  We cried more in the 10 days of our trip than I ever would have guessed.  The Boston runners would find each other, hug and cry and tell their stories of what had happened to them last year, or what motivated them to get to Boston this year.

One of the most touching experiences was at The Old South Church.  They have a knitting group there who started what they thought was a small project.  They wanted to thank the runners who were coming back and to "wrap them up in courage and love" to go on with the race this year.  They started out with a goal of gathering 300 scarves to give to runners.  Word spread quickly and they ended up with 7300 handmade scarves from all 50 states and 10 countries. People just wanted to do something kind, and to help the runners heal from the wounds of last year.  So any runner could go to the church, which is right at the finish line where the first bomb exploded last year, and the volunteers there wrapped the runner up in a scarf, gave them a hug and told them they were loved and appreciated.  Seeing thousands of runners all around Boston in their bright jackets and blue and gold scarves around their necks was really, really touching.

Everywhere we went, Mark found new friends.  People just wanted to talk.  They wanted to share.  Runners and spectators alike were all just so happy to be there.  The police thanked us for coming back.  The shop owners thanked us for coming back.  The city was entirely united.  The Boston Police were everywhere as a show of strength and unity.  They were helpful and kind and so gracious.

I couldn't help but think that if this same thing had happened in Portland, that would have been the end of the marathon.  While Boston has the city motto of "BOSTON STRONG,"  Portland has the motto of "Keep Portland Weird." If this had happened in Portland, we would have had groups out protesting the commercialism of the race, or protesting in support of the bombers, and the city would have spent millions of dollars in studying what Portland had done to offend these terrorists, millions more training Police to be more tolerant.  The crazy but vocal minority runs things in this town.  And the mayor is one of them.  The Portland Police bureau is full of heroes who would have acted the same way the  Boston police did in the aftermath of the bombing last year.  They put their lives on the line every day to protect us.  But they get no respect.  In Portland if a cop has to use his gun to take out an armed or dangerous bad guy, the cop loses his job and the entire bureau undergoes sensitivity training.

I say this not to complain (luckily I live in my happy little suburb and out of the idiocy of inner Portland), but just to praise the citizens of Boston.  They were the phoenix rising from the ashes.  Better, more beautiful and stronger than ever.

Between the crying spells, we did have a lot of fun.  Mark had been injured, and this run was not about a time goal for him, but about going and enjoying the run and healing along the journey.  That's exactly what happened.  He ran all 26.2 miles side by side with a friend, and he loved every minute.

After the race, we stayed in Boston for the rest of the week.  It was so therapeutic to see Boston return to normal, and to then leave it as the beautiful city that it is, rather than the war zone we left last year.

Any trauma or bad images we had in our brains has been replaced by happy experiences and beautiful things.  The bad stuff happened, and it is somewhere deep inside our brains filed under "experience", but our memories of Boston are all good now.  The blood and the smoke have been replaced by happy runners and a resilient city.

And we are going back next year.  Now for pictures.

Our good friend from BYU and Omaha days took us one day down to Providence, RI to see the mansions.  I absolutely loved it.

 Thank you Phillip and Summit for an amazing adventure!

 I took this photo of Meb as he ran in front of me on his way to win the whole thing!

 Mark ran the entire race with his friend Keith.

 Stephen ran faster than Mark.  He really had a goal and made it happen.

 This Boston police officer was across from us last year, and was right in front of the 2nd bomb when it exploded after we left the street.  My niece told him about how she had gone and stood in the same spot as last year to show she wasn't afraid.  He took of his Boston Strong ribbon and gave it to her.

 Stephen, Mark and our friend Eric after the traditional night-before bib pinning.