I am having a hard time being completely joyful this morning. After the Boston Marathon bombing, yes I was sad for those that were experiencing loss. I know what it is like to experience loss, but can only imagine experiencing it that tragically, and in the public eye as well. And don't get me wrong I am happy that the final suspect is in custody, I think the Boston PD and everyone else involved did an amazing job.
BUT I am not resting peacefully and I need to work today to find that place again. My dh was glued to the TV yesterday from the time he arrived home from work. I couldn't watch it. I tuned in for a few minutes twice yesterday to catch updates on what was going on. But I couldn't watch it over and over and over again. I just kept thinking that this boy was my oldest sons age. Actually just a little older as my oldest will be 19 in July. I kept thinking how scared he must be, how sad he must be at the loss of his brother, how alone he must feel without family around.
I don't know why he did what he did, or anything really about this boy, but he is my sons age. And someone, somewhere loves him.
So I am grateful this day that my boys are home, safe, and sleeping in their own beds. Grateful I am here to love them and care for them, and that they feel that love every day.