Oy. What a week.....

This week (specifically Monday) I began my Gordon Ramsay project. I was excited to buy all the ingredients, put my skills to the test and create a wonderful dish. Tuesday I expected to share the experience with you all. But then something happened. Something huge. Something bigger than any project I could be undertaking at that moment.

I haven't really had the time nor the words neccessary to express my deepest sympathies for the victims and families affected by this monstrous event. And what can I say? What can I say that hasn't already been worded so eloquently? Words and writing are my forms of expression and unfortunately I am at a loss this week. So i've sat quietly watching and listening to the simultaneous outpouring of grief and support for a town I hold so dear. My town. My home. My Boston.

I keep writing something that I think is good and then erasing it because I know it doesn't fully describe how I'm feeling right now. I thought taking a few days to process everything would make it easier to finally get out but I still can't describe it. There are so many different levels of incredible sadness and anger coupled with glimmers of hope that I feel here and there. The past few days have been some of the longest that I think I have ever experienced in my life. What was supposed to be a short 4-day work week has turned into a nightmare. I can't say too much about where I work but I can say that it has played a crucial part in the recovery process from this horrific occurence. I've watched my coworkers work their asses off trying to reconnect victims with their loved ones. I've dodged journalists trying to "get the scoop" and I've even seen some high profile visitors come through my lobby. All of this coupled with trying to process what the fuck happened, trying to keep tabs on my own family and friends and learning about my grandmother's recent hospitalization has resulted in me being a very tired and somewhat numb Jo.

I don't think I've ever once felt unsafe going into town. And I'm not saying I do even now, but I'm still in utter disbelief that something like this could possible happen in a place I felt so secure. As a child, my aunt would often bring me into the old Boston Garden for the circus or for numerous "Disney On Ice" shows. When I became a teenager, my best friend and I thought we were really "cool" when we got to hang out in Boston for the day. Faneuil Hall with all it's tourist-y glory was the place to be, after all. As an adult, I got a job IN Boston literally right around the corner from where the blasts occured: The Ritz-Carlton, Boston. (Of course now it's the Taj, but that's a horrible memory to recall). I was able to walk through the Public Garden everyday, take a Swan Boat ride on my breaks (when I got one) if I wanted, stroll down Newbury and Boylston street and just people watch.That's when I started really falling in love with the city and embracing every aspect that it had to offer.

I remember vividly that first Red Sox parade that happened just a street over from us. I opened the window and the roar of the crowds just poured into the club where I worked. It was glorious. I truly felt the love that the citizens on this great city and Commonwealth had for their beloved Sox. And of course every 2nd Monday in April, the hotel was fully booked with marathon runners and supporters from all over the world. I think my favorite pair of runners I met were a father and son team, whose names I can't recall. The father had open heart surgery and was running his first post-surgery marathon! I remember being amazed that he would be able to undertake such a feat! He was truly an inspiring individual. After hearing the news on Monday (and on top of everything else flooding my mind), I wondered if he and his son were running this year.

Today, amidst the insane manhunt that is still going on as I type this, I went into work armed with the knowledge that I may not be leaving anytime soon. As terrified as I was, I still went in. I don't know why but I felt compelled to be there and help. Maybe it was because I wasn't there to help on Monday and I feel a touch bad. I could've stayed home today but I did not want to abandon my coworkers, friends and patients who I knew would need support today. We waited and watched the live video feed of SWAT teams and armed police as they patrolled through Watertown looking for the bastard responsible. As the day wore on (as many of you may know), travel restrictions were eased gradually and we were eventually allowing people to leave, as long as they weren't going to any of the restricted areas/towns that were affected. The mass exodus from my job could not have gone any quicker. When I was given the go ahead to eventually leave myself, I was relieved. I would soon be safe at home. It was just about then when I heard the faintest of cries. I glanced over to my right and there was a mom and dad with their newborn baby ready to go home. I briefly froze for a moment. I couldn't believe they were about to bring a poor innocent baby out into such a cruel and horrible world. I was sad. 

But then I thought that maybe, just maybe, that kid could be hope for a new beginning. Even though things seem so miserable and scary now, there is still that small chance to try and turn it around. With every new baby born, we're given another shot at changing this world for the better. These dickheads may have tried to scare us and break us down, but they failed. We will not falter. We are Boston after all. We are one of the oldest cities in this great country of ours. We always endure. A city that endures and grows, instead of backing down is a town I am proud to call my home,

And as I close out this post, they got him. #BostonStrong