Boston Strong

I've been struggling to think about how to continue the conversation since Marathon Monday and the crazy week that followed. The soreness in my muscles is gone. My sunburn has faded. My toenails are all painted dark purple so that no one can tell which ones are about to fall off. For many of us, it appears that life has returned to normal.

And maybe, for the most part, it has. But even today, something is different. I'm startled by noises that never would have bothered me before. I get choked up driving through downtown Boston. Under the nailpolish, the bruises are still there.

I finally made it out to the memorial at Copley Square this past weekend, before they pack it up and archive it all tomorrow. I'm really glad I was able to see it. What struck me the most, beyond the sheer volume of caps and shoes and written prayers, was seeing the memorials for the four innocents who lost their lives that week. In my subconscious attempt to avoid all the news about the perpetrators, I don't think I'd seen the names of the victims in over a month. It hurt to remember each of them.

Boston Strong. It doesn't mean that we don't have lingering bruises. But it does describe how we should continue to respond to them. For me, it means putting my running shoes back on and hitting the pavement, bruises and all. It means continuing to find a way to do something meaningful for others. Starting projects like this one, created by a fellow member of the Marathon Coalition. It means mustering the courage to ask for help. Being there for someone else.

We owe it to all of the victims not to forget this drive to do better by one another - to be better. I have seen so much good come out of this catastrophe, and we can't stop here.