Boston, you're my home.

Typically I wait a few days to post anything about real world events.
It just seems a little rash to post about something when I don't yet know the facts,
or when I haven't yet had time to process my thoughts.

This time is different.

Yesterday, if I could have torn myself away from talking/texting family & friends,
sorting through Facebook & Twitter for the "I'm ok" posts,
filtering out real news from rumors,
to post about this -- I would have.

This hits close to home, because this is my home.

It's such a rare feeling to see something tragic on the news,
and to know exactly where it's happening.

To be able to reach into my memory of the last time I was on that street [2 days ago],
and become flooded with feelings of pain and sadness and confusion and fear.

It's not common for me. 
I understand that it is common for many, unfortunately.

I've heard people say "this happens all over the world, every day."
I've heard people say "it was only a matter of time."

And maybe it happens all over the world, everyday.
And maybe it was only a matter of time.

But it's still my home, and it's still painful,
and those statements don't make it hurt any less, or provide any clarity to the tragedy.

The feeling of going through your brain of every person you know:
family, friends, acquaintances, co-workers, people in the community, neighbors,
families at my school, parents of children in my classroom, children in my classroom.
(It's absurd how many people one actually knows.)

And then racking my brain "who told me they were going?"
Who should I text first? It's terrifying.

While most schools here are closed for vacation, mine isn't.

And today, I stood in my classroom, twenty minutes away from where the bombs went off,
and listened to small children tell me about what happened.
And they asked why it happened and wondered why there are bad people in the world.

And all I could muster, without tears, was to say:
Sometimes really sad things happen 
and grown-ups don't know why.
But what we do know, is how to keep you safe - 
and I'm so glad you're safe.

And I meant it.