For Boston

One of the things that makes me think that I might be a good mother someday is that I have this "Mama Bear" instinct to defend those I hold dear.  In other words, I am very protective of my people.  Well, today, someone tried to hurt my people in my city.  Thankfully, none of my friends were hurt, but other people were.  This is not okay.

I was surprised at how I felt about the whole thing.  When I first heard, I didn't think it was a serious thing, but as the news came in, I started to hurt.  Even though I knew everyone I cared about was fine, I just felt so sad that this happened in a place that I loved, just one block from one of my favorite subway stations.  It made me wish that I had been there, not because I feel like I could have helped, because I'm just one person whose only medical training of late comes from reruns of Grey's Anatomy.  And not because of any form of "survivor's guilt" or anything.  I wanted to be there because when someone (or someplace) that you love gets hurt, you want to be there.

I'm not going to try to convey any inspirational message within this post.  I'll leave that for better writers.  This is just a post for me to talk about how I feel.  And even though I feel sad right now, I feel hopeful.  I feel hopeful because in a city full of Massholes living in neighborhoods called "Murder-pan", we are going to bounce back with one friggin' wicked vengeance.