I have never been to Boston but I have been there.

I have never been to Boston. But I have been there. And I know first hand that it’s a living hell you never want to revisit.

I have been at my sister’s bedside, 48 hours after a bomb exploded at her feet. I have seen the layers of burnt skin. I have seen what happens when the nylon seams of a shirt melt into skin. I have seen what happens to flesh when it is hit by shrapnel. Years later there are still remnants of that bomb in her body.

I have seen my sister’s name in the newspaper under the list of blast victims, with the word “amputated” next to her name.

I have peeled away burnt skin to help relieve her of unbearable itch. I have watched white blood cell counts rise and fall and understood medications I never wanted to know about. I have celebrated victories that only those in the bomb victim world get to enjoy. Like when my sister escaped lung burn because she didn’t inhale enough of the noxious burning gasses to irrevocably damage her lungs. Boy did we party that day.

My sister suffered 70% burns to her body. She lost her left leg below the knee. Her right leg was so badly damaged that the doctors didn’t know if they could save it. She was 16 years old and a waitress at a pizza restaurant. She could have been standing at a marathon finish line.

On Monday, when those two bombs exploded in Boston, my two worlds collided.

Although I have never run Boston, I have run 7 marathons. I have run through the finish line with my husband and baby waiting for me. One year my friend Heather wading through the crowds to find me. And my last NYC Marathon, my Dad and friend Laura waiting near the end in Central Park. I have finished my races with joy, with pain, with sadness and with elation, but never with the fear that I know all too well.

I will never run again without thinking of Boston. Even though I have never been there, it will never leave me. This is too real and too familiar. Because I know the truth. That once the photos have faded from the newspaper headlines, and the coffers of donations have emptied, the victims of that bomb blast will never be able to rid themselves of that day. And although they will piece things back together – body parts and broken hearts – Boston will always be with them.

And it will always be with me.

7 Comments Add yours

  1. Linda dado says:

    Poignant, heart wrenching, sad, yet inspiring. They rise, challenge and constantly give an F U to the event, the pain, the aftermath. Thank you for sharing such inner most strength. Truly inspiring, a reminder that though the story eventually creeps off our home page, it lurks in your hearts, minds and souls. Let this be a reminder to those of us that have not been directly affected by unthinkable violence, the story goes on. Peace and love, fellow humans.

    1. fancypants says:

      Peace and love indeed 🙂

  2. Amado says:

    goodgod. Times like these, all I can think is that this kind of awfulness calls us to shine our own lights so much the brighter. Thank you for being an awesome example of how that’s done.

    Carry on, Fancypants.

    1. fancypants says:

      Thanks Amado.

  3. That day hasn’t left me either. It hasn’t left my mind and heart because I saw your sister’s name in the paper, I read her age and I cried. I followed her story and prayed for her – not because she was your sister but because she represented us all. Anyone could have been there, at that spot, at that moment, on that day. Anyone. The randomness of it was so incomprehensible to me – that the person setting off that bomb had no care whatsoever who his victims would be.

    I remember reading about her progress and imagining her altered days and being SO ANGRY that a young girl was suffering so much for no good reason.

    I imagined it. I feared it. I prayed.

    I cannot fathom the emptiness of the souls of the people who do this – their lack of understanding that life is SO precious, their poverty of compassion.

    I can’t imagine how this must be taking you and your family back. Please know that I send love.

  4. Cindy says:

    If you don’t mind me asking, what bombing was your sister involved in? Cindy

    1. fancypants says:

      She was injured in the St. Elmo’s Pizza bombing in Camps Bay, November 1999.

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