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This day crept up on me, maybe because last year the Boston Marathon corresponded with spring break for my kids. But here we are, at the one-year mark of the marathon bombings. That whole week in 2013 was weird, for lack of a better word. And then Friday and Saturday turned into a manhunt and self-imposed lockdown for many of us just outside of Boston. It was just a strange and uncomfortable week.
All of my problems seem inconsequential today. This is a day for remembrance and healing. That's all I got--this post and Nick Flynn's beautiful poem "Marathon."
I am grateful for every moment of every day.