Yesterday was a strange day.  On a personal level, there were new tires to be purchased and placed on our car, taxes to be filed (with money owed), and the ever-present awareness that three years ago on April 15th of 2010 I recieved the phone call telling me that my brother just younger than me had been killed in a car accident.

Side by side with that, I noticed the blossoms have burst on our apple trees, enjoyed a walk to Duke Gardens with my dear hubby, and brainstormed with him about where I’m going with my NinChicks books.  We also welcomed a whole passel of new chicks–and I reminded myself that I can’t keep them all.

Around and in the middle of the flowers and walk, the memories and taxes, there were the headlines of the bombing, and the anxious wait til I’d heard from my Boston and racing friends to hear they were all okay.  An attack of this magnitude always reminds me of 9/11, and my fear on that morning as I waited for my husband’s call.  This time, I’ve mostly avoided watching news footage because I’ve learned how long these images can haunt me.  I’m grateful that many were spared, but ache for the loved ones of those who weren’t.  I know exactly what it feels like to get that phone call.

If I could give them a hug and slip a note in their hand, it might say something like this:

I can’t take away the hole that’s been blown in your heart, but I can tell you that the saying ‘time heals’ is not a lie.  It can’t take you back to who you were before, but it can help you grow into a new you that’s better and with enough time, the pain will ease.

Don’t be afraid to cry, but don’t be afraid to laugh, either.

Accept yourself, and trust yourself enough to let this experience shape you.

Show gratitude to those that try to help you, but tell them the truth when you need to be alone.

Most of all, hold on to your hope.  There will be a new sun.

We send our love, every one of us.