Searching for the Words

There's something about his little hands. And the concentration. And the way his head is slightly bowing down. He was sitting on his dad's shoulders and holding up this sign for all of us to see ... way back in April, just a few weeks after the Marathon bombing. There was just something about his purity, innocence and sweetness that stood out in stark contrast to the polluted, hateful evil that had just attacked our city. Something about that sentiment...because when terror strikes we all feel small, weak and vulnerable.

My husband and I were fortunate enough to attend half a dozen Red Sox games this season. Each time we were at Fenway, several first responders or victims or doctors or nurses or military service men and women were honored. They climbed onto the top of the home team dug out and received a long, loud ovation from the home team crowd. The players visited hospitals. Raised money. Helped us to heal and to remember.

And they got busy, grew some beards, and won a few games. With every hit, run, pitch and out they marched closer to the pennant. THE pennant. It was hard won. The post season baseball was incredible - some of the best, most tense {and intense} games I've ever seen! But, better than the baseball, was the spirit of joy and family the team was bringing to the city. The closer we got to that final out, the more we all remembered. And when the guys won the world series, in the home town ball bark....for the first time in almost 100 years...well, they somehow managed to make it feel more about all of us than it was about them.

It wasn't just a public relations thing.

For us, they were Boston Strong.

{photos courtesy of ESPN}

On Saturday, when the Boston skies were crystal clear and the trees were fully decked out in their all finery... there was a parade. A HUGE freaking parade! Several million people poured into downtown and cheered together. The crowds were packed into Copley square, all around the site of the marathon finish line. The duck boats stopped. There was a moment of silence. Then thousands joined in the singing of God Bless America. It was beautiful.

But it was the sight of the crowds safely gathered down town that struck me the most. It reminded me of the first time I saw a plane fly across the clear blue sky near the Hancock tower without incident after 9/11. There they were. The crowds in the same place. Cheering and singing and praying and remembering and celebrating. And all was well.

It was our moment. It was my full circle moment. We can't ever bring back those who were lost. And I can't imagine the healing that still needs to take place for those who were forever changed by those bombs that day. And I know there are other people. Other places...so many, too many others who need healing as well.

But for a few hours, on a perfect fall day, our city FELT the strong. Boston Strong.

And for that, I'll be forever grateful to this wonderful team of bearded baseball players.

Greetings from my home town!

Linking up today with

Just Write, Communal Global & Texture Twist