And then, you remember.
And your heart sinks.
That's how I felt this morning.
Yesterday was a rough day, for all of us.
Patriot's Day. Boston's holiday. A day of festivity, of celebration, of the Red Sox. Of the Boston Marathon.
Schools and businesses are closed, bars and restaurants are open early.
The marathon route is PACKED for 26.2 miles with cheering spectators.
If you're not there, then you are watching it on tv or your computer.
It's a day that the city absolutely and completely comes together - in harmony; in patriotism; in pride; in celebration.
(Pics from my Sis who was watching from Mile 17 yesterday.)
Watching what happened, the two explosions, over and over and over again on TV all night long, was mind-numbing and heartwrenching.
The boyz, still so innocent, were content to play outside the remainder of the day, and watch a movie at night. I kept their exposure to a minimum, but they know.
Hearing radio coverage on my way to work this morning between a Boston station and our sister NY station, with the NY radio DJ asserting that today, New Yorkers are wearing Red Sox hats...made me tear up.
I just don't really have any words right now.