I have a heavy, heavy heart tonight. The images caught by a camera, set up to capture people's triumph as they conquered 26.2 miles, instead capturing the dark maw of mayhem and chaos opening up out of nowhere.
I cannot get the thought of the 8-year-old victim out of my mind. What parent was that child waiting for to cross the finish line?
It has been my husband's goal, for years, to qualify for the Boston marathon. He missed it this year by a handful of minutes.
The minutes that determine your place in the race.
Whether you have passed safely beyond the finish line, or are still waiting for your loved one to cross it so you can congratulate them in their moment of glory.
Your time.
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