Everyone gets caught up in the daily routine. Work, kids, school, bills, cleaning, etc. It's an easy trap to fall into. We forget to appreciate the small things, because the big things seem to loom over us. We forget to say "I love you" to those who matter to us. We pay more attention to our phones and computers and tablets than our family. Hey, we're human, not perfect. I recently got caught up in the daily grind.
I was reminded yesterday of something that still pisses me off to no end, and I will never, ever forget what the government did to our military families. Quick story: Two Rangers in Adam's Regiment were killed while in Afghanistan. Because of the government shutdown, it was revealed that the families of these men, including a widow, would not be getting the $100,000 in death benefits immediately given to the family for many different things - airfare to be there when the servicemembers' body returns to the U.S., funeral expenses, and whatever that money may be needed for in their time of grief. SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. It hit me hard, because that may have been me. It could have been my closest friend. This is how our government treats families a day after their loved one is killed?
The Fisher House heroically stepped up and paid the families that money. Our illustrious government said, oh, gee thanks for picking up our slack, and we still won't pay them the money they are supposed to get.
My point is this - what servicemember, while in a foreign country in a combat situation, should have to worry about their family not being given what they are promised when said servicemember signed up voluntarily to serve that country? This is the true definition of the word bullshit.
I have digressed, which is easy to do when I'm on a tear. What I really wanted people to know is the pride, even maybe the hubris, a military spouse feels. While I was carrying out my ranting on Twitter about the budget cuts involving military pensions, I was reminded again of the intense, emotional pride I have in not only my husband, but our entire military. Men and women who work endless hours, who spend their birthdays, holidays, anniversaries and everything else away from their families, in a hostile place where they aren't wanted.
Just by virtue of being married to Adam, I have touched a sitting Vice President's hand, sat 10 feet away from another Vice President while he gave a speech, watched Adam walk down the streets of Savannah in the St. Patrick's Day parade, pinned on his new rank and his Ranger tab, listened to a four-star general extol the heroics of Adam's unit and men in it, met wounded warriors and their families, and grieved alongside families. It brings me to tears to think about all of the truly amazing experiences I have been able to be a part of, and the pride often threatens to overwhelm me.
I am going to make it a point to not let the day end without me feeling that pride, without remembering how effing lucky I am to be a part of the Army family. Whatever is it you have pride in, own it, and never forget how awesome that feeling is.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Because I'll say what I really want to say...
I fully intended to take my pain medication and fall asleep for a little while today. Those pills will knock an elephant on it's ass, but I'm pretty strong-willed when I want to be. Which is always.
Had you told me when I was 21 years old that I would meet a man-child about to graduate from high school, who had already enlisted in the Army, and end up marrying him a year later, I would have peed my pants laughing. Move to the South? Nah. They'd never understand my funny accent, and I'd never understand theirs. I'm a New England girl - I want iced tea, not sweet tea.
Fast forward to today - Adam has been in the same unit for 18 years. I've been there for every single minute of it. I've seen good times, I've seen great times, I've seen crappy times, and I've seen the very worst of times.
Until today.
Families know the day their loved ones leave that that may be the very last time they see their face, or talk to them on the phone, or receive an email. We don't talk about it, but it's always in the back of our minds. I can't fathom the reality of reality.
I know very well everyone is sick about hearing about the government shutdown. But, it's affecting so many people I know and love. Enough with the finger pointing and blaming one party or the other. I am an American, not a party. I want what is best for my country. I fucking love this country.
I knew about the deaths of the two Rangers in Afghanistan. I found out about the other servicemembers who also died. No one wants to think about their loved one coming home in a coffin, yet here are more families having to face that horrible reality. Upon a servicemembers' death in combat, the family is supposed to be wired $100,000 for whatever is needed - a flight to get to Dover to meet the coffin returning, funeral expenses, etc.
Now, because of the government shutdown, those families AREN'T GETTING that money. If this doesn't make you mad, then it was nice knowing you. I know without a doubt being a military wife has made me more patriotic, given me more love for country, and feeling pride in knowing my husband, best friend, and so many others have served this nation.
What kind of country are we living in when someone voluntarily joins the Armed Forces, dies for us, and then their family is told, "Hey sorry, it's the Repbublicans/Democrats/Tea Party/Zombie party's fault, not ours." Obviously this hits close to home for me. That could be me, that could be my friend's husband, that could be someone you know.
Don't turn a blind eye to what is happening in our country. Don't brush it off that it's someone else's problem, not yours. Don't be that asshole that doesn't give a shit until it affects you directly. Blind admiration is ignorance.
May those who died this past weekend rest in peace. I may be just the wife of Ranger, but I'm part of the Ranger community, the Ranger family, and we WILL make sure the families are able to get to Dover, to pay for the funerals, to not have to worry in their time of grief and remembrance. I've shared a link on Facebook if you'd like to donate. I donated, because I know my Ranger family would help me.
May God Bless America.
Had you told me when I was 21 years old that I would meet a man-child about to graduate from high school, who had already enlisted in the Army, and end up marrying him a year later, I would have peed my pants laughing. Move to the South? Nah. They'd never understand my funny accent, and I'd never understand theirs. I'm a New England girl - I want iced tea, not sweet tea.
Fast forward to today - Adam has been in the same unit for 18 years. I've been there for every single minute of it. I've seen good times, I've seen great times, I've seen crappy times, and I've seen the very worst of times.
Until today.
Families know the day their loved ones leave that that may be the very last time they see their face, or talk to them on the phone, or receive an email. We don't talk about it, but it's always in the back of our minds. I can't fathom the reality of reality.
I know very well everyone is sick about hearing about the government shutdown. But, it's affecting so many people I know and love. Enough with the finger pointing and blaming one party or the other. I am an American, not a party. I want what is best for my country. I fucking love this country.
I knew about the deaths of the two Rangers in Afghanistan. I found out about the other servicemembers who also died. No one wants to think about their loved one coming home in a coffin, yet here are more families having to face that horrible reality. Upon a servicemembers' death in combat, the family is supposed to be wired $100,000 for whatever is needed - a flight to get to Dover to meet the coffin returning, funeral expenses, etc.
Now, because of the government shutdown, those families AREN'T GETTING that money. If this doesn't make you mad, then it was nice knowing you. I know without a doubt being a military wife has made me more patriotic, given me more love for country, and feeling pride in knowing my husband, best friend, and so many others have served this nation.
What kind of country are we living in when someone voluntarily joins the Armed Forces, dies for us, and then their family is told, "Hey sorry, it's the Repbublicans/Democrats/Tea Party/Zombie party's fault, not ours." Obviously this hits close to home for me. That could be me, that could be my friend's husband, that could be someone you know.
Don't turn a blind eye to what is happening in our country. Don't brush it off that it's someone else's problem, not yours. Don't be that asshole that doesn't give a shit until it affects you directly. Blind admiration is ignorance.
May those who died this past weekend rest in peace. I may be just the wife of Ranger, but I'm part of the Ranger community, the Ranger family, and we WILL make sure the families are able to get to Dover, to pay for the funerals, to not have to worry in their time of grief and remembrance. I've shared a link on Facebook if you'd like to donate. I donated, because I know my Ranger family would help me.
May God Bless America.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Because there are better things to think about...
Here's what I think about our government shutting down - I'm done with overpaid, grown-up babies who still think they're playing in a sandbox and are just waiting to point the finger at someone else for what they all collectively have managed to do together. It pains me to even type about these people we, as the people, seemingly elected to work for us. So, in that respect, I'm going to spend my time thinking about much better things. Here's a partial list:
1. I'm thoroughly confused by the "Before the Vows: Divorce Court" title of the TV show. I do love me an oxymoron though.
2. Lee and Morty, the two old people in the Swiffer commercials, are gems. I'd love to go hang out with them for awhile.
3. I was told to wear "loose-fitting shorts, like gym shorts" for a surgical procedure next week. All I can now think is that I need to go buy men's basketball shorts and obviously some high-top sneakers to match the shorts. When I actually stop and think about it, I'm sometimes perturbed and amused by how my thinking works.
4. My kid eats food in the shower. I'm thinking of installing a garbage disposal much like Kramer did on Seinfeld, and have him start making our salads while he's in there.
5. I've become a real-life Homer Simpson after noticing my cart at Wal-Mart last week included beer, bacon, and donuts.
6. I keep forgetting to call the manager at Wal-Mart. Their "baker's dozen" of donuts only has 12 donuts in them, not 13, even though there's a big 13 on the box. This has happened twice. Yes, I count my donuts. If you're not counting when there's a number on something you buy, you're doing it wrong. If I get 11 chicken nuggets when I'm supposed to get 10, I can move mountains with my happiness.
7. If I could grow a beard, I'd be really handsome.
8. Q-tips are highly affordable, so why don't more people use them?
9. Between living with Adam, Addison, and three dogs, I am pretty sure I have lost any sense of smell. Luckily, my sixth sense, awesomeness, has kicked in overtime.
10. When the bottle says don't drink alcohol with this medication, they actually mean it. Lesson learned.
11. 0pppp (That was the dog's contribution after I placed the laptop on the floor. You're welcome. If you'd like to send Mosby a message back, he'd appreciate it.)
12. Apparently Mosby is trying to let you know he's down with OPPPP. Other People's Puppies Pretty Please, if you're not fluent in the Canine language.
14. I just skipped #13, like an elevator.
15. I'm on the last unbeatable level of Candy Crush Saga. I need a new hobby.
I'm sure there's plenty more things I'd rather think about than "That bullshit going on in this country that shall not be named." I'll think about it and get back to you. In the meantime, I'd love to hear what everyone else is thinking about lately.
1. I'm thoroughly confused by the "Before the Vows: Divorce Court" title of the TV show. I do love me an oxymoron though.
2. Lee and Morty, the two old people in the Swiffer commercials, are gems. I'd love to go hang out with them for awhile.
3. I was told to wear "loose-fitting shorts, like gym shorts" for a surgical procedure next week. All I can now think is that I need to go buy men's basketball shorts and obviously some high-top sneakers to match the shorts. When I actually stop and think about it, I'm sometimes perturbed and amused by how my thinking works.
4. My kid eats food in the shower. I'm thinking of installing a garbage disposal much like Kramer did on Seinfeld, and have him start making our salads while he's in there.
5. I've become a real-life Homer Simpson after noticing my cart at Wal-Mart last week included beer, bacon, and donuts.
6. I keep forgetting to call the manager at Wal-Mart. Their "baker's dozen" of donuts only has 12 donuts in them, not 13, even though there's a big 13 on the box. This has happened twice. Yes, I count my donuts. If you're not counting when there's a number on something you buy, you're doing it wrong. If I get 11 chicken nuggets when I'm supposed to get 10, I can move mountains with my happiness.
7. If I could grow a beard, I'd be really handsome.
8. Q-tips are highly affordable, so why don't more people use them?
9. Between living with Adam, Addison, and three dogs, I am pretty sure I have lost any sense of smell. Luckily, my sixth sense, awesomeness, has kicked in overtime.
10. When the bottle says don't drink alcohol with this medication, they actually mean it. Lesson learned.
11. 0pppp (That was the dog's contribution after I placed the laptop on the floor. You're welcome. If you'd like to send Mosby a message back, he'd appreciate it.)
12. Apparently Mosby is trying to let you know he's down with OPPPP. Other People's Puppies Pretty Please, if you're not fluent in the Canine language.
14. I just skipped #13, like an elevator.
15. I'm on the last unbeatable level of Candy Crush Saga. I need a new hobby.
I'm sure there's plenty more things I'd rather think about than "That bullshit going on in this country that shall not be named." I'll think about it and get back to you. In the meantime, I'd love to hear what everyone else is thinking about lately.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Because I have a lot on my mind...
Let me preface this post by saying when I'm sick, I'm cranky. It's been a real shitty few months for me, health wise. I can honestly say that having chronic pain is a lonely thing. I've been lucky enough to have the support of friends and family, especially those friends who are either dealing with a similar situation or just those who live with chronic pain and understand. Just because you can't see someone's illness doesn't mean it's not there, that it's not totally messing with their body and mind and spirit.
There's always a bright side to life. It may seem like sometimes that brightness is hiding better than Saddam Hussein in an underground dirt hole, but I promise, it's there.
Let me continue by saying that because I've been laying on the couch all day, I have had a lot of time to think. And I think, A LOT. Here's some things I ruminated about today:
1) Social media can really bring out the worst in people. I used to be the first person to jump into a controversial discussion. Today a friend posted a picture of a very pregnant, barely dressed woman smoking. I read through some of the comments on the original post - I really shouldn't have, because man, what the heck is going on in this world? One woman said, "Well my mom smoked when she was pregnant with me and I smoked when I was pregnant and we're all fine." HUH? I knew it was time to move on when I read another commenter say, "You don't know what she's been threw. She's probably been threw a lot." I realize I'm a grammar snob, but I can't take anyone seriously when I read stuff like that. NEXT!
2) When I start to lose faith in people, I draw on what I've learned and what I've observed from others. Sending Addison, a child who has only been baptized and had no religious experience beyond that, to a Baptist private school was one of the best things we've ever done. As a teenager who decided that if I didn't like it, I wasn't going to do it, I quit going to church. That's not to say I still didn't believe in God, in prayer, and in the power of prayer. I've tried to become a better person, to show Addison that even though I do not attend church, I can be a person who prays, who tries to see the best in people. What's best for me isn't best for everyone, and that goes for everyone. I have atheist friends and I have friends that have devoted their lives to God. What and how people choose to live their lives isn't my business, nor is it yours.
3) I ramble a lot.
4) Like I said, there's always a bright side to things. Though I hesitantly take pills for pain, I can only laugh when I remember the conversation at the kitchen table on Sunday night. Adam had made the most delicious pork ribs in the history of man, and knowing that dogs shouldn't eat chicken bones, I asked him, "These are pork ribs, right? Because dogs can't have chicken bones." Luckily, he humors me. "That would be one big ass chicken," he said.
Lastly, just be nice. Be nice to yourself and be nice to others. I can't say it often enough.
There's always a bright side to life. It may seem like sometimes that brightness is hiding better than Saddam Hussein in an underground dirt hole, but I promise, it's there.
Let me continue by saying that because I've been laying on the couch all day, I have had a lot of time to think. And I think, A LOT. Here's some things I ruminated about today:
1) Social media can really bring out the worst in people. I used to be the first person to jump into a controversial discussion. Today a friend posted a picture of a very pregnant, barely dressed woman smoking. I read through some of the comments on the original post - I really shouldn't have, because man, what the heck is going on in this world? One woman said, "Well my mom smoked when she was pregnant with me and I smoked when I was pregnant and we're all fine." HUH? I knew it was time to move on when I read another commenter say, "You don't know what she's been threw. She's probably been threw a lot." I realize I'm a grammar snob, but I can't take anyone seriously when I read stuff like that. NEXT!
2) When I start to lose faith in people, I draw on what I've learned and what I've observed from others. Sending Addison, a child who has only been baptized and had no religious experience beyond that, to a Baptist private school was one of the best things we've ever done. As a teenager who decided that if I didn't like it, I wasn't going to do it, I quit going to church. That's not to say I still didn't believe in God, in prayer, and in the power of prayer. I've tried to become a better person, to show Addison that even though I do not attend church, I can be a person who prays, who tries to see the best in people. What's best for me isn't best for everyone, and that goes for everyone. I have atheist friends and I have friends that have devoted their lives to God. What and how people choose to live their lives isn't my business, nor is it yours.
3) I ramble a lot.
4) Like I said, there's always a bright side to things. Though I hesitantly take pills for pain, I can only laugh when I remember the conversation at the kitchen table on Sunday night. Adam had made the most delicious pork ribs in the history of man, and knowing that dogs shouldn't eat chicken bones, I asked him, "These are pork ribs, right? Because dogs can't have chicken bones." Luckily, he humors me. "That would be one big ass chicken," he said.
Lastly, just be nice. Be nice to yourself and be nice to others. I can't say it often enough.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Because children get older...
And I'm getting older tooooooo.... (Sorry, I tend to think in song lyrics.)
This is the time of year that I feel bad as a mother for a second, then remember I'm a pretty good mom. My friends lament over their children growing up, wondering where the time has gone. It seems to be a common theme on social media, whether they're attending a preschool or high school graduation. That's the part where I feel momentarily bad - I enjoy Addison getting older. It's not like I'm counting the days until he goes off to college (You can do the math - 4 years X 365 days). But there are many things I don't miss, and some I do.
I don't miss changing diapers. Maybe some people actually like it, but I get tired wiping my own butt sometimes. Wiping someone else's really isn't appealing to me, especially when you have to hold them down because they're wiggling like an earthworm on a fishing hook. I know there are moms who enjoy the early months and years, but I wasn't one of them. I didn't enjoy waking up every two hours to feed him. I did enjoy when he would fall asleep in my arms, even though little chubby Addison sometimes caused my arms to go numb.
The toddler years were a mixed bag. But, that really goes along with any age. We were the parents trying to shove our meals down our throats at a restaurant, since Addison decided he would personify the Terrible Two's for more than a year, starting at 18 months.
I could go on and on through his almost 14 years, but that would even bore me.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've tried to soak up the good and bad of every age. I know where the years have gone. They've creeped along, yet they've flown by. Sure, it's nice I can leave him home alone, but there's no more blessed nap time when I knew I could get things done. I may not have to watch Barney or the Teletubbies anymore, but I do watch TeenNick, which isn't bad, but it's definitely not the Game Show Network.
It's fun to reminisce about the early years, like when he wanted to be like the dogs and poop in the backyard, or how he took off running when he turned 9 months old. Treasure those memories. As much as you may want to keep your baby a baby, you can't. It's our responsibility as parents to raise them to be productive, responsible adults.
It doesn't matter how old Addison gets, if I read Love You Forever, I turn into a weeping mess of a mom. He may be inches taller than me, but he will always be my little boy in a man's body, and I look forward to helping him become the adult he is going to be, not who I want him to be.
This is the time of year that I feel bad as a mother for a second, then remember I'm a pretty good mom. My friends lament over their children growing up, wondering where the time has gone. It seems to be a common theme on social media, whether they're attending a preschool or high school graduation. That's the part where I feel momentarily bad - I enjoy Addison getting older. It's not like I'm counting the days until he goes off to college (You can do the math - 4 years X 365 days). But there are many things I don't miss, and some I do.
I don't miss changing diapers. Maybe some people actually like it, but I get tired wiping my own butt sometimes. Wiping someone else's really isn't appealing to me, especially when you have to hold them down because they're wiggling like an earthworm on a fishing hook. I know there are moms who enjoy the early months and years, but I wasn't one of them. I didn't enjoy waking up every two hours to feed him. I did enjoy when he would fall asleep in my arms, even though little chubby Addison sometimes caused my arms to go numb.
The toddler years were a mixed bag. But, that really goes along with any age. We were the parents trying to shove our meals down our throats at a restaurant, since Addison decided he would personify the Terrible Two's for more than a year, starting at 18 months.
I could go on and on through his almost 14 years, but that would even bore me.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've tried to soak up the good and bad of every age. I know where the years have gone. They've creeped along, yet they've flown by. Sure, it's nice I can leave him home alone, but there's no more blessed nap time when I knew I could get things done. I may not have to watch Barney or the Teletubbies anymore, but I do watch TeenNick, which isn't bad, but it's definitely not the Game Show Network.
It's fun to reminisce about the early years, like when he wanted to be like the dogs and poop in the backyard, or how he took off running when he turned 9 months old. Treasure those memories. As much as you may want to keep your baby a baby, you can't. It's our responsibility as parents to raise them to be productive, responsible adults.
It doesn't matter how old Addison gets, if I read Love You Forever, I turn into a weeping mess of a mom. He may be inches taller than me, but he will always be my little boy in a man's body, and I look forward to helping him become the adult he is going to be, not who I want him to be.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Because Billy Joel is my beacon...
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I spent this week, along with everyone else, experiencing so many emotions it was tough to name them all. Anger, fear, sadness, jubilation, you name it, I felt it. What should I do with all these emotions?
One time a doctor I worked with turned and said to me, "You've got an excuse for everything, don't you?" Wowza. The truth hurt. I'm good at making excuses, and even when they're valid, I feel bad.
So today I stopped making excuses as to why I couldn't exercise. I thought of the many innocent people who lost limbs in Boston. I threw on my 1st Ranger Battalion t-shirt with the names of our fallen Rangers on the back, and that made me realize those brave, selfless men would never be able to run again, although knowing Rangers like I do, I'm sure they've got their own workout club going on up in Heaven. I went to the track, with all of these people in mind, and when I felt like I couldn't run another step, I kept on going. I thought of three people who wanted to watch a marathon who lost their lives. I kept going.
Back to Billy Joel. I know you've been reading with bated breath, wondering how Billy fits all of this. His song, "All About Soul" came on while I was running. These lyrics just seemed to fit today and every day:
"This life isn't fair
It's gonna get dark, it's gonna get cold
You've got to get tough, but that ain't enough
It's all about soul."
I'm done with the excuses. I invite everyone to badger me daily, ask if I did any form of exercise - keep me accountable, and don't accept my myriad of excuses. Not to worry, though. I've got soul.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Because now I'm mad...
I've moved on to the second stage of grief - anger. I'm angry that a coward took the lives of three innocent people on what was otherwise a bucolic day in Massachusetts, especially
Boston. I'm angry that it happened in my city, in my home state. I'm angry that I am here in Georgia and can't be there among my fellow New Englanders to grieve among them. I'm just angry.
When I was 18, I stood along the sidelines of the Boston Marathon, hoping to catch a glimpse of my dad running by. My eyes darted back and forth, through the runners. "DADDY!" I saw him running, and yes, I call him Daddy. Maybe once I hit the age of 40 I'll just call him Kevin. It was a huge thrill to see my dad running yet another marathon.
Martin Richard was along the sidelines waiting for his dad to finish the marathon. I've heard his dad ran, his dad didn't run, and I truly believe we will never know all of the details surrounding that day. Martin just wanted to see his dad run the marathon, and cheer him on, the same as I did back in 1993. An evil person with what I can only presume also has no soul changed the Richard's family forever. Martin died, and his younger sister, a dancer, lost a leg. His mother was also injured.
Two young women with a lifetime ahead of them were also murdered. Why? I keep asking myself why. Maybe we'll never know why. But I need to know why.
I need a suspect, I need someone to be arrested for this crime. I need a face and a name, someone to direct my anger towards. How dare you go into my city, the city I love the most, the city where I watched the Red Sox play on Summer evenings, where my son was baptized, where friends and family live and have lived, and try to destroy it.
To whoever did this, I'll say this...I'm angry. I'm just a girl who loves Boston and lives in Georgia by way of marriage. If I'm angry, just imagine the anger from those who ran the marathon, those who lost their family members and friends that day, the citizens of Boston and Massachusetts, New England, the entire country, the entire world. You messed up big time, and now it's time.
I will say this though - I rarely cry. It takes a lot for me to shed a tear. But after seeing the outpouring of love for Boston yesterday, I have been emotional and even shed a few tears. Seeing the videos of Yankees fans and other fans at games singing "Sweet Caroline" was simply amazing. Though sports may divide us, realizing that we are all a nation standing together against terror ultimately unites us.
Boston. I'm angry that it happened in my city, in my home state. I'm angry that I am here in Georgia and can't be there among my fellow New Englanders to grieve among them. I'm just angry.
When I was 18, I stood along the sidelines of the Boston Marathon, hoping to catch a glimpse of my dad running by. My eyes darted back and forth, through the runners. "DADDY!" I saw him running, and yes, I call him Daddy. Maybe once I hit the age of 40 I'll just call him Kevin. It was a huge thrill to see my dad running yet another marathon.
Martin Richard was along the sidelines waiting for his dad to finish the marathon. I've heard his dad ran, his dad didn't run, and I truly believe we will never know all of the details surrounding that day. Martin just wanted to see his dad run the marathon, and cheer him on, the same as I did back in 1993. An evil person with what I can only presume also has no soul changed the Richard's family forever. Martin died, and his younger sister, a dancer, lost a leg. His mother was also injured.
Two young women with a lifetime ahead of them were also murdered. Why? I keep asking myself why. Maybe we'll never know why. But I need to know why.
I need a suspect, I need someone to be arrested for this crime. I need a face and a name, someone to direct my anger towards. How dare you go into my city, the city I love the most, the city where I watched the Red Sox play on Summer evenings, where my son was baptized, where friends and family live and have lived, and try to destroy it.
To whoever did this, I'll say this...I'm angry. I'm just a girl who loves Boston and lives in Georgia by way of marriage. If I'm angry, just imagine the anger from those who ran the marathon, those who lost their family members and friends that day, the citizens of Boston and Massachusetts, New England, the entire country, the entire world. You messed up big time, and now it's time.
I will say this though - I rarely cry. It takes a lot for me to shed a tear. But after seeing the outpouring of love for Boston yesterday, I have been emotional and even shed a few tears. Seeing the videos of Yankees fans and other fans at games singing "Sweet Caroline" was simply amazing. Though sports may divide us, realizing that we are all a nation standing together against terror ultimately unites us.
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