Patriots’ Day Weekend
Monday, April 15th, 2013It was a pretty intense weekend. As I write this a few days later, I’m swimming in a sea of conflicting thoughts. This week has been gorgeous – the weather is perfect, the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming, my cold from last week is gone and so is the exhaustion from an incredibly long week at work. I finished a big project, ongoing projects are going well, I’m on-track to meet my deadlines and I’m excited to make plans for a get-away weekend.
And yet, I feel incredibly sad. My city was attacked. We were bombed. Thousands of people ran 26 more miles than I’m capable of running to raise money for charities, and someone attacked them. The sidewalk in front of my dad’s old office building was covered in blood. The heart of my city is a crime scene. Everyone I know knows someone who was hurt or saw terrible things.
I love my city because we are strong. We’ll get through this, but I feel sad, and I just want to feel sad for a little while longer before I let things get back to normal.
Last weekend was a three-day weekend, and before 3pm on Monday, I was having a kick-ass weekend full of family and friends.
Saturday was the first of our two Open House events at work. It’s an incredibly long day after an incredibly long week, but my hard-working colleagues and I suited up, put on a big smile, and impressed the pants off of a few hundred prospective students and their families. It was exhausting, but rewarding.
Brian picked me up, and we headed to our friends’ new house for the first BBQ of the season. Hamburgers, hot dogs, friends we don’t see often enough, and adorable little girls running around chasing bubbles. In other words – perfect. I posted a few photos here.
On Sunday morning, we headed to my parents’ house for family brunch. Mom’s been trying to start a tradition of hosting Sunday brunch more often, and who am I to argue? My aunt and uncle were in town, so it was the perfect excuse to get some people together for bagels and lox and everyone talking all at once. Perfect.
On Sunday afternoon, we celebrated Greek Easter. Brian’s aunt’s family is Greek, so our relatives on his side get together every year to celebrate Greek Easter. This year, we weren’t able to get everyone together, so instead it was just the cousins. Six couples doting on a four-year-old and two infants while eating smoked lamb. In other words – perfect. I posted a few photos here.
On Monday, I slept in, finally, and I had some much needed alone-time while Brian went to the Red Sox game. I had one goal for the day: finish the drawing. I had been commissioned by a colleague to do a drawing of his kids, and I had to postpone my original promise of “early-April” because of the cold from hell. From my couch, I watched Hiroyuki Yamamoto cross the finish line of the Boston Marathon, I heard the bells of Old South Church ringing to mark his victory, and I settled in at the kitchen table with my fancy pencils and erasers. In other words, perfect.
I’m not exactly a sports person, but every year, I watch the Boston Marathon, and every year, I get choked up as I watch thousands of people start the race in Hopkington while thousands of spectators cheer them on. This is what it’s all about. Human endurance. Community. People coming together to support eachother. Hard-working people pushing themselves to perform an enormous feat of athleticism because they can, and because they’re raising money for something that matters.
The drawing came out great, and although I hadn’t run a marathon, I felt like I had really accomplished something with my day, and I gave myself the rest of the day off. By the time Brian came home from the game around 2:30pm, I had settled in on the couch with a book and a snack, ready for a quiet afternoon.
And then it happened.
